Cradle Of Love
by Amarin Rose
Summary: Kon Kent gets a job working for single mom Timothea Drake. Her daughter Robin is the easy part: Tim is still dealing with past losses and isn't coping well. Kon has his own secrets and they both are on a collision course for romance – eventually. COMPLETE
1. Prelude To Introductions

**Prelude To Introductions**

* * *

Timothea Ava Drake, aged twenty-two, was the new CEO of Drake Records. Besides being one of the youngest power brokers in Gotham City, she was also one of the best, with the ability to track down hot new musical talent that topped the charts in only months.

But seeing as how she was a single mother suddenly working a seventy-hour a week job, she was also near the end of her proverbial rope.

Cursing the day she'd ever let her father convince her that she wanted to go into the family business – and cursing the fact that he couldn't have put off his midlife crisis and subsequent retirement for a few more years – Timothea glared at the one picture of him she had on her desk, her scowl softening when she caught sight of her daughter in the photo opposite him, wide, cheery smile dispelling her gloom as it always had, from the moment Tim had learned of her existence.

After a car crash when she was nine had resulted in the death of mother and the near-crippling of her father, Tim had withdrawn into herself, feeling survivor's guilt for having escaped the collision with nary a scratch. It had taken almost three years of counseling, and the staunch support of her best friend Bernard Dowd before she'd started to come out of her shell once more. Jack Drake meeting Dana Winters during the end of his physical therapy, and falling in love with her, leading to her becoming the second Mrs. Drake, had cemented Tim's return to the world.

It had proved that no matter how dark, things **could** get better. Not perfect, but improvements were always possible.

Tim just had to hope that that applied to her job, as well. She eyed the buzzing intercom with distaste, before finally giving in with a sigh and answering it.

"Uh, Miss Drake, I'm sorry to bother you…again…but…" Timothea sighed as she listened to the repeat of yet another stupid question from her third temp secretary in as many months. Once the babbling twit – Tim hadn't even bothered to learn her name – finally got around to asking her question, she spit out her answer through clenched teeth, and then furiously punched the OFF button on the intercom.

All was quiet for a moment – but only for a moment.

Whimpering as the phone rang, her email icon started flashing with an urgent message, and her fax machine started spitting out that contract she'd been waiting for for the past week, Timothea tried vainly to rub away the headache forming behind her temples, and focused on becoming one with her chair. Maybe, just maybe, she decided as she slumped lower in her seat, having a personal assistant wouldn't be such a bad idea.

* * *

"I thought you thought that personal assistants were extremely gauche, Timmie," Darla Aquila, one of the Timothea's oldest friends, and also her first musical find, said the next afternoon in the park.

Shifting to the side of the bench so she could more clearly see the playground, Timothea said, "I still maintain that to most Hollywood types, having a personal assistant is, in most cases, like having a Ferrari or a ten thousand dollar watch: something to show you have money. But I honestly don't think I'll be able to handle both my job and my private life without some help." Timothea sighed, bowing her head, and allowing her hair to obscure her tired countenance from view. "This is the first time all week I've been able to spend some time with Robin outside of getting her dressed in the morning and putting her to bed at night." Sadness warred with frustration across her face as she said, "It used to be when I had a few free minutes I could go down to the nursery to play with her. Now, I'm lucky if I have enough free minutes to go to the bathroom!"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, Timmie," Darla said, backing off with a theatrical waving of her hands. "I'm on your side here, girl."

Blushing and smiling ruefully, Timothea said, "I know, Darla. I'm just so…frazzled." She spared another glance towards the playground, letting out a sigh of relief as she spotted her daughter safely on the slide.

Darla stared at her with comically wide eyes. "No, really? I never would have guessed, Timmie."

Piqued, Timothea said, "And would you please stop calling me that? It's not very professional."

"Yes, but 'Tim' makes you sound like a man," Darla pointed out long-sufferingly, as she had at various points in the past.

"Sometimes I think it's still a man's world," Timothea grumbled as she watched her daughter go down the slide for the third time, squealing happily. "Besides, it's not like I mind if people think the new CEO of Drake Records is a man. It gives me an edge in negotiations with people who think women aren't as tough."

"Mm-hm," Darla murmured noncommittally. "It has nothing to do with you having to keep turning down those cute young records execs who ask you out, right?"

Looking pained, Tim said, "D, you know why I can't–"

"I know why you **don't** date, and better than almost anyone, I might add," Darla said firmly, yet not without gentleness. "But eventually, Timmie, you need to let your heart heal, and move on."

Tim snorted. "Isn't that a line from your latest single?"

Darla shrugged, quirking a grin. "Hey, art imitates life, girl."

Timmie let out a laugh. "Whatever you say, D. Whatever you say."

* * *

_Wanted: Administrative Assistant for CEO of Drake Records. Duties to include secretarial work and childcare. Must have at least a B.A., business or accounting preferable, and experience with young children. Long hours, occasional six-day work weeks, full benefits and vacation time. For further information, please contact 846-6566…_

Bart Allen snickered as he read the want ad over his friend's shoulder, bushy auburn hair hanging in his whiskey-colored eyes. "You can't be seriously considering that, can you?"

"Why not?" Conner Kent, better known to his friends as 'Kon' asked. "I'm good at office work and I like kids." He pulled out his cell phone and checked the number in the paper, giving his friend a smirk as he dialed. "Besides, did you see who's hiring? And how much they're willing to pay?"

Bart hadn't, but then, he was gainfully employed, so he had no reason to search the want ads. Even with his friend having occupied his couch for the past two weeks, Bart was tired of helping Kon look for new jobs. Conner was paying his part of the rent, but this was the fifth time that year that Kon had gone looking for a new job. He'd tried everything from waiting tables to modeling, and either he was overqualified and his employers let him go so he could find something better, or he got bored, or, in the last case, his boss had fired him once he'd found out who Kon's parents were.

That Kon would have been able to sue for wrongful termination in that case was beside the point; he was trying to **avoid** his father, and that meant laying low. He was, at least, still able to collect unemployment, which was enough to pay his half of the rent. Only half, however, which was why he was bunking with Bart for the time being.

Watching as Kon retreated to the kitchen to make his phone call in private, Bart spied the time and frantically raced to get ready. He was going to be late for work if he didn't hurry. On his way out the door to his job as a construction worker, Bart grabbed his lunch, his hard hat, and the Classified section of the paper, then made it halfway out the door before he remembered his keys, like usual. On the train to the construction site, he looked over the ad his friend had circled, wondering why Kon had been so stoked about the job.

Bart blinked as he read over the particulars again. The position wasn't just as a regular administrative assistant; it was as a **personal** assistant to the CEO of Drake Records. The pay **was** really good, though presumably the job wouldn't be a cakewalk, what with the childcare aspect. And Kon always **had** wanted to go into the music business…

But Bart was confused over why a CEO would want to hire a secretary/nanny. He also thought he remembered Drake's kid being his age.

* * *

Kon, meanwhile, was hanging up the phone with a smile on his face. After just a few minutes on the phone charming the secretary, he'd gotten a face-to-face interview for the very next afternoon. Now all he had to do was fax in his résumé, iron the wrinkles out of his interview suit, and hope for the best.

Which wasn't always easy. Kon frowned, slumping down on Bart's couch, which had been his bed for the past thirteen days. This job sounded like a dream come true – and it would earn him more than enough money to move out on his own – but Kon knew better than to hang all his hope on it. Alternately brooding over his past, and thinking hopefully of his future interview with the CEO of Drake Records, Kon got up and started fixing his lunch.

If he didn't get the job, he'd have to keep looking. And if he didn't find anything within a few months, he'd have to go back to work for his mother. He didn't want to dip too heavily into his savings account, and there was only so long he was willing to sponge off his friends.

And he was **never** going to work with his father. One summer interning as a gopher at the Daily Planet had been enough to convince him that journalism was not his field. And that Clark Kent was…he was a good man, and a nice man, but he was so straight-laced. Clark just wouldn't think outside the box, and he'd never really understood his son.

They may have looked alike, with their large builds, black hair and blue eyes, but inside was a different story.

His mother, Lena Luthor, didn't always understand him, either, but at least she had accepted that, and had been happy when he was happy. Sometimes Kon thought that everyone would have been better off if the three of them had never tried to play happy families, but Clark never would have allowed it.

Clark and Lena had met in high school, when her father, business magnate Lex Luthor, had moved back to his childhood home of Smallville, Kansas, after his wife's passing. Clark and Lena had quickly become quite the couple – even though Lena was two years younger than Clark, they were still in the same grade, she having inherited her father's intelligence along with her mother's looks – and just before graduation, Lena had discovered that she was pregnant.

Clark had been the one insisting on them getting married when she found out. Lena had been the one to insist on the divorce three years later, when it was clear from their tumultuous marriage that their teenage romance should best have been left behind with other childish things.

Clark had never quite forgiven Lena for that, divorce not sitting well with his Midwestern sensibilities, even though he loved his second wife Lois Lane with a passion. He'd also never developed a strong relationship with Conner, which was only exacerbated by his and Lois' inability to have children of their own. When Conner refused to follow his father's footsteps by becoming a reporter – never mind that he'd also refused to take a management position in his grandfather's company – things between the two had become even more strained.

Kon's maternal grandfather, Lex Luthor, had never thought that Clark was good enough for his daughter, but had been willing to put up with him because Lena loved him. He'd been very supportive of her decision to raise Conner on her own, and doted on his only grandchild. While he thought that Kon should go to work for him, Lex wasn't going to get upset with Kon's choice.

Clark just couldn't seem to understand why Conner would want to go into the music business.

* * *

At 2:00 on Saturday, Kon L. Kent entered Drake Records with a spring in his step, and his heart in his throat. It didn't bother him that, if he got the job, he'd likely have to work Saturdays fairly often, or that he'd have to work on the top floor of a forty-two story building.

No, what bothered him was 'if.' If he didn't get the job, hopefully he could find something else, but this job seemed perfect for him, and he didn't imagine anything else he could find would come as close.

Then again, he hadn't yet met the child he'd be taking care of as part of his nanny duties. If the kid was a complete terror, then no matter how good the rest of the job was, he didn't think he could take it.

Entering the elevator, Kon pushed the button for the forty-second floor, and listened to a Muzak version of _Tiny Dancer _as he waited to reach his floor. The wait was almost interminable, even though the elevator car proceeded at a steady pace, and didn't stop on any intervening floors; Kon would have welcomed a distraction in the form of another living being, but instead he got to spend four minutes worrying over his upcoming interview.

Once on the top floor, Kon made his way to the front desk, and got directions to the executive offices from a pretty, perky blonde named Greta Hayes. Two lefts and a right brought him to a small waiting area done in muted shades of tan and hunter green, with a large window overlooking the street. Another blonde, this one slim and elegant in a lavender suit dress – and who looked puzzlingly familiar – sat behind a desk. Contrary to popular fiction, she wasn't filing her nails, or talking on the phone; she was going over files.

As Kon approached the desk, he caught sight of _Kent, K–_ on the file tab, and realized that the woman must be reading up on him. He was unsure whether or not to be anxious about that.

Clearing his throat, Kon stepped forward and said, "Hello, my name is Kon Kent; I'm here to interview for the personal assistant position?"

The woman raised mildly startled blue eyes to him, and smiled with more practiced perfection than actual feeling. "Hello, Mr. Kent. I'm Darla Aquila, and I'll be conducting the pre-interview today." At Kon's inquiring look, she explained, "Tim is very busy – that's why the need for a personal assistant – and so I'm weeding out the applicants before I send them in."

Kon nodded, though inwardly he wondered why Mr. Drake would have one of his top recording stars interview applicants instead of his secretary. It explained that moment of déjà vu, at least. "Sounds like a time saver," he said.

She smiled. "Please, sit," she invited him, gesturing towards a nearby chair. Her expression flickered hard for a moment, almost so fast that Kon could convince himself he was seeing things. "Let's get started."

* * *

Half an hour later, Kon knew he **hadn't** been seeing things. He'd never actually met a drill sergeant, but he felt certain that none of them could match Darla Aquila for sheer tenacity.

They'd gone over his entire résumé, his background, his previous jobs, his **lack** of criminal convictions, his experience with various computer programs and filing systems and knowledge of various first aid procedures. Darla had showed particular interest in **his** interests, his extensive list of volunteer activities, and the sparse information he'd included on his family life.

Kon wondered if she'd start asking about his eating habits, his hygiene practices, or his love life next. Thankfully, it seemed she was only interested in his work experience, and anything that might impact such.

It had been both the most grueling, and the most bemusing interview Kon had ever been to. Not to mention frustrating, since Darla was so enigmatic that he had no idea if she was impressed, pleased, or apathetic about what she was hearing.

At least he found out why Darla was the one interviewing him; apparently, the secretary position would be usurped by personal assistant position, and so Drake didn't currently **have** one.

"Well," she said finally, laying down his file and folding her hands in front of her with a pleased smile. "I think that about does it."

"What now?" Kon asked, because if she thought she was going to push him out the door without at least giving him some idea of how the interview had gone, she had another think coming.

Darla appeared to consider that for a moment, though Kon had a feeling it was all for show. "Now…now you meet Tim. And Robin."

Kon blinked. "Is Robin Drake's daughter?" It occurred to him to wonder why he hadn't heard anything in media about the Drake family, but then, he hadn't even been aware that the previous CEO of Drake Records had had a son; presumably the whole family liked their privacy.

Smiling, Darla said, "Robin is a wonderful little girl. She's the apple of Tim's eye."

"You sound like you know her personally," Kon said, hoping to coax forth more information before he had to meet the prospective boss and charge.

Darla smiled at his confusion. "I'm Robin's godmother. She's a rather rambunctious three-year-old, and she'll be the first to tell you that she's **almost** four. And I feel certain that you'll understand when I tell you that if Robin doesn't like you, you're not getting this job, no matter how qualified you are." She punctuated her statement with a stern, steady stare; not a glare, but damn close.

Kon blinked at the sudden change in her tone from whimsical to serious. There was that drill sergeant impression again. "That sounds fair. No sense sticking the kid with someone she doesn't like for several hours everyday." This was probably a thinly veiled attempt to 'interview' his childcare skills, which was quite all right with Kon. He didn't want to deal with a completely spoiled brat on a daily basis, so this would be a good opportunity for him, too.

Darla nodded, seeming pleased with his easy acceptance of this limitation.

"So, do I get to meet Robin before or after my interview with Mr. Drake?" Kon asked, wanting to get the next two interviews over with.

Darla's smile was more of a smirk, but Kon had no idea why she'd be so amused. "During, actually. You'll speak with Tim for a few minutes while I go fetch Robin from the onsite daycare downstairs."

Kon nodded. Onsite daycare, but Mr. Drake wanted someone to personally watch over his kid. Sounded like good parenting to him; the only reason his mother hadn't done the same was because as the boss's daughter, she'd been able to keep him with her whenever she wanted. "Anything I should know before I go in?" he asked, mostly as a matter of form.

Darla's smirked got even wider, and if possible, even more smirk-y. "Probably," she said, "but let's not spoil the surprise, shall we?"

Eyeing her, and wondering if her secrecy had anything to do with her amusement, Kon said agreeably, "All right."

"Go on in," she said, and headed down the hall.

Kon turned around, and made his way to the oaken double doors that heralded Mr. Drake's office. The brass nameplate on the door read _Tim A. Drake_. Kon speculated on what Mr. Drake was like, and why he'd not put his full first name on the nameplate. Or perhaps 'Tim' wasn't short for 'Timothy'?

Entering the office, Kon found an elegant room tastefully done in shades of blue and gray, with potted plants near the floor to ceiling windows, and comfortable looking furniture near the wall on the right. He was surprised to find a woman seated behind the desk at the far end of the room. A rather attractive one at that; slim and young, her Greek heritage clearly visible in her dark coloring. Long black hair pinned up, with curling tendrils falling winsomely around her face. Big blue eyes topped with luscious lashes and framed by tortoiseshell glasses, lips and cheeks pink through nature and not cosmetic. Wearing a simple navy blue skirted suit, jacket open and the top two buttons of the white blouse undone, she looked like a cross between the 'naughty librarian' and a barely legal high school student in some sexily drawn Japanese anime.

'Rather' was the wrong qualifier; 'very fucking attractive' was more like it, if a bit crude.

Thankfully Kon had met enough beautiful women in his time, that, while he wasn't inured to their presence, he was able to keep his jaw from falling to floor, and to keep from drooling like an idiot.

Taking a wild guess, and hoping he wasn't going to look like even more of an idiot, Kon said, "Ms. Drake?"

She smiled, and to say that it shone like the sun would have been an exaggeration. It was more like a full moon coming out from behind a cloud; not exceedingly bright, but just as beautiful, and serene, while hiding mysterious secrets. Such as her gender. "Mr. Kent," she replied pleasantly, rising from her desk, and revealing herself to be on the short side of average height. It wasn't the large oaken desk that made her look imposing, however; it was her force of personality. "I'm Timothea Drake," she introduced herself, holding out her hand. "Please, call me Tim."

Inwardly bemused, but outwardly pretending calm, Kon shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Tim; and please, call me Kon."

"Kon," she said with a smile. Waving at the chair positioned in front of her desk, she said, "Please, won't you have a seat?"

Kon did so, and tried to figure out why Ms. Drake would have purposely kept her gender a secret. Maybe she wanted to see how many people would be put off by working for a woman.

Maybe she just liked fucking with people's heads.

"So, tell me, Mr. Kent…" she started, folding her hands neatly in front of her.

"Kon," he corrected her. If he was supposed to call her by her first name, then she should do the same.

She eyed him archly, but said, nevertheless, "Kon." She paused. "Tell me why you want this job."

Not entirely unexpected, but then Kon had never applied for a position like that before, so he didn't have a ready answer. Luckily, he'd always been good at winging it. "I read your ad in the newspaper, and it sounded…intriguing. I've done a lot of office work, and some of it's interesting, some of it's boring, and most of it's in between." He flashed her a smile, one that dimmed as she remained stoic. "The part of this position that really intrigued me, however, was the childcare involved."

Tim no longer looked quite so unfeeling. She waved her hand and made a 'go on' noise, and Kon obliged. "I've always like children, though I never got to spend much time with them growing up. It was only as I entered high school and started volunteering at the local community center that I actually got to spend time with younger kids." Wetting his lips and thinking back which part of his various 'jobs' to tell her about, Kon finally decided on the pseudo-teaching ones. "I started off by coaching the teenagers in various sports teams: basketball, baseball, street hockey… It was fun for me and them, and I think educational for the kids, because they learned how to work together, and it helped them make friends with each other… I found I was good with the kids, and I liked working with them. So even when I started college, I made time in my schedule to help out at the community center. I started filling in with the younger kids, reading them stories, playing games with them… I liked that even more." Younger kids were so…not needy, exactly, but attentive. It was easy to see the impact he had on their lives.

"And yet, you didn't decide to become a teacher, or go into childcare fulltime?" Tim asked, seemingly innocuously.

And this was the question that could make or break him, Kon sensed. "Part of working in a community center is that it **isn't** school. It's a place for the kids to get away from their responsibilities for a while, and I suppose that's what it was for me as well. There was a homework clinic and occasionally myself or one of the other volunteers would help the kids with that, but the structure was very…flexible." Leaning forward and looking her in the eye, Kon said, "Also, after about the dozenth conversation with one of the kids over what they were going to do with their lives once they got out of high school, whether or not they should go to college…I realized that I didn't want to follow in either of my parents' footsteps. I wanted to go into music."

Tim blinked, looking mildly surprised. "Really?"

Nodding, Kon said, "Not as a singer, or even a songwriter…I just wanted to work behind the scenes. Producing or directing, I guess you'd say. Helping the music get out there."

"There's going to be more 'directing' than actual production involved in this job, Mister– Kon," Tim corrected. "Hobnobbing with stars is only a very small part of what we do here at Drake Records."

"That's fine with me," Kon said. "I–" He was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was followed by Darla and a young girl entering. The girl was short and blonde, with green eyes so big Kon could see the color from all the way across the room. She was wearing a pink T-shirt under denim overalls, and sneakers with sparkly laces.

"I hope we're not interrupting," Darla said in a pleasant tone of voice that indicated she meant exactly the opposite.

Kon wondered if this 'surprise' visit was another test, and knew it had to be. If there was one thing he knew about kids of all ages, it was that things rarely went as you expected them to where they were concerned.

"Not at all," Tim said, rising from her chair with a soft smile. A true smile; Tim was finally using the action as an expression of happiness instead of as a matter of police discourse.

The little girl, Robin, presumably, took a long look at Kon, nose scrunching up in some mixture of confusion and childish disdain. Tim's movement drew Robin's attention away from examining Kon, and she let go of Darla's hand, running towards Tim with a cry of, "Mama!" She threw her arms around Tim's waist and hugged her tightly, smiling widely up at her mother.

Up close, the little girl was even cuter than Kon had originally realized. Her shining blonde hair framed childishly round face, dimples just peeking out on her cheeks. Sparkling emerald eyes shone like gems and were that complimented by a pert little nose, liberally sprinkled with freckles. At first glance, Robin didn't look much like Tim, but there was something there that was reminiscent of her mother.

The determined set to her chin and the take-no-nonsense attitude were definitely vintage Drake. And so was her smile. The smile Tim had on her face now wasn't muted like the moon any longer; now it did shine brighter than the sun, rays of tenderness radiating out as she stroked her daughter's hair softly.

If Kon knew nothing else, he knew Timothea Drake loved her daughter.

"Mama, who's he?" Robin asked, curious, as if she hadn't met half a dozen other applicants that very day.

It heartened Kon to think that maybe he had been the first one to pass the first two (three?) tests and meet Robin. "I'm…interviewing for a job with your mother." And Kon sincerely hoped he got the job; from what little he'd seen, Robin seemed like a sweet kid.

"What kinda job?" Robin asked with a mix of interest and suspicion.

"Her personal assistant."

Nose scrunching up, Robin asked, "What's that?"

"It's a job where I help her out by doing stuff for her so she doesn't have so much work," Kon said, trying to think quickly through what exactly this job would mean for **Robin** specifically. "And when she's really busy, I'll spend time with you so you don't have to be alone." 'Alone' was better than 'by yourself'; it implied that Robin wouldn't want to be lonely, not that she couldn't look after herself.

A mulish set to her jaw, Robin said rebelliously, "I wanna spend time with Mama, not with you." She stamped one foot petulantly. "Why can't you do alla her work, and then she wouldn't be busy, so's she could spend more time wif me?" In the mind of a child, it was that simple.

Unfortunately, the world was run by adults.

"I'm sure you would like that," Kon said soothingly, "and so would your Mama. Most of the time, I'll be doing just that, but some of the stuff your Mama has to do herself, and so those times I'll spend with you." At least, he **thought** that was what nanny part of the personal assistant job entailed.

Looking at him warily, Robin cupped her elbows in her hands and said, "And Mama will get to spend more time with me?"

"Yup," Kon confirmed. Hopefully, anyway. He knew well how busy an executive position could keep someone.

"You promise?" Robin blinked those wide emerald eyes up at him guilelessly.

Kon blinked. She was all blonde curls and those big green eyes, and it looked as if she was going to have her mother's long legs one day. _Boy, this kid's gonna be a heartbreaker when she gets older._ "Um…I'd like to, but that's really something your mother has to promise. I would just work for her." He sent a quick look towards Tim, who didn't seem to have a problem with what he'd said; but then, he'd already seen ample evidence of how well she could school her expression.

Still, she hadn't interrupted the little Q&A session between him and Robin once, so Kon was inclined to think he'd done an okay job.

Robin sighed and slumped, deflating like a balloon. "I guess you're right," she said, obviously unhappy. She thought for a moment and asked, "Do ya like playing Barbies?"

"Er…" Kon coughed. "I don't think I've ever played Barbies before…" He'd played Tonka trucks, Hot Wheels, Cowboys and Indians, Jedi and Sith, 'House' and any number of tag-type games, but none of the little girls he'd ever mentored had wanted to play Barbies with him.

He actually felt kind of cheated. At her pout, he quickly added, "But I'd be willing to learn. You could teach me."

Robin seemed reluctant to be coaxed, however, and grumbled under her breath. "Do you at least know how to braid hair?" she asked plaintively.

Kon nodded. "Yes, indeed I do." Legacy of having once had a girlfriend with long hair; he could do pigtails, ponytails; everything from French braiding to French twists.

Thankfully, he was pretty sure that Robin would be less exacting than Cassie. A few stray curls here and there would probably pass muster with her.

"All right," Robin said reluctantly. "I guess that's okay." Giving him a childish parody of a stern glare, she waved a finger at him and said, "But you better me nice ta me or I'll tell Mama on you and you'll gets fired."

He was entirely certain that would happen. "You got it, Miss Robin, ma'am," Kon replied with undue seriousness.

Robin eyed him as if she trying to verify the veracity of his facetious statement, then huffed and flounced back to Darla. After exchanging a speaking glance with Tim, Darla took Robin's hand and led her out of the office.

It took Kon a moment to realize that perhaps he should get off the floor and back into his chair; he did so was all due haste, trying to look as if he'd meant to wait a few moments before moving. Without any lead-in, he asked, "So, did I pass?"

Tim obviously thought highly of his intelligence – at least in comparison to the average monkey – and didn't try to pretend that his meeting with Robin hadn't been a test. "With the proverbial flying colors, Mr. Kent," she returned dryly. Her eyes twinkled a smirk at his obvious pleasure with his 'high marks.' "At least when compared to the rest of the applicants."

Kon deflated slightly at that, but still, it meant he was near the top of the list for getting the job, didn't it? "Well, I've always tried to be a cut above the rest." Ambition was the only way to get noticed in the business world; both of his parents had taught him that.

"Mm." Tim folded her hands in front of her on the desk and leaned forward. "Kon, let's talk turkey here. I need someone for this job, and I've been looking at applicants for a week. You're the first person that hasn't either outright annoyed me, or pissed me off by how high-and-mighty they acted with Robin." Her eyes turned sharp as daggers, and her teeth suddenly looked pointed. "But I've never been one for choosing the lesser of two evils, especially when it involves my little girl."

Kon nodded, waiting a moment to speak to make sure she would allow him to. "I can see that you're very protective of Robin." Hopefully that was an innocuous enough statement.

Not quite bland enough, to go by the eyebrow she raised at him, but close. "Nothing is more important to me than Robin," she stated. At Kon's nod, she relaxed a bit. "You were good with her," she said, tone taking a turn for the mild. "And she seemed to like you. But in cases such as these, time will tell. And I still don't know how you'll handle the office work."

"So?" Kon prompted, when she seemed inclined to let him talk again. "What does that mean?"

"I propose a trial period," she said slowly. "Give you two weeks to get used to things around here as my secretary, then another two weeks to work with Robin. If, at the end of the month, I think you'll work out in your capacity as my personal assistant, I'll hire you full-time."

"And if I still want the job after a month of working for you," Kon said bluntly, making sure she knew that, while she would be his boss, he wasn't going to let her walk all over him.

Now she looked amused. "Yes, if you still want the job." Narrowing her eyes at him, she asked, "Do you agree to the probationary period?"

"Is the pay going to be the same?" Kon asked immediately.

Tim snorted. "Yes, but the benefits don't kick in until you've been working here six months." And if he didn't pass the trial period, he wouldn't have a chance at them.

"A try-out sounds fine to me," Kon said. "If you can handle having me follow you around all the time." He had a feeling that as long as he worked out with Robin, it wouldn't matter how abrasive she found him personally. He could already tell that she was a serious, no-nonsense type of person, while he was rather more laid-back. Their managerial styles would probably clash; hopefully not too badly, or he might not get to see the second half of his trial period.

"You'll mostly be out front at the secretary's desk," she told him. "And I think I can handle you 'hanging around' just fine, Kon." She raised a brow and said challengingly, "If you can 'handle' working for a woman…"

Kon smirked. "I have no problem working for a woman." He'd worked for his mother off and on for years, after all, and working for a relative, no matter how beloved, always entailed complications of its own. "Especially one as lovely as you," he added teasingly.

Tim shifted uneasily in her chair, a closed expression coming over her face. "I don't think flirtation needs to be a part of your duties, Mr. Kent."

"I offer it as a free benefit," Kon quipped. Then he softened, sensing how uncomfortable she was with his interest. "But I'm perfectly capable of remaining professional while on the job, Ms. Drake."

"Let's hope so," Tim said primly, eyes flashing. "And it's 'Miss.'"

Of course it was.


	2. From Friendship To Flirting

**From Friendship To Flirting**

* * *

"I got the job!" Kon announced as he rushed in the door barely an hour after his interview.

Bart turned from his place at the stove, stirring a pot of spaghetti. His eyes lit up as he took in the news. "Great!" he replied, accepting his friend's hearty back-slap with a smile. As Kon headed towards the bathroom to wash up for dinner, he added, "When are you moving out?"

Kon was so surprised by that question that he tripped on the rug and faceplanted in the floor. "When I get out of the hospital," he mumbled into the carpeting, reaching out with his arms to push himself up.

Bart snickered, offering a hand to help his friend heave himself off the floor. "Sorry," he said, sounding anything but.

"Sure you are," Kon grumbled, but accepted the hand up.

"So what's this guy Drake like as a boss?" Bart asked as he headed back to continue making dinner.

Kon rubbed a frown off his forehead. "I'm not working for a guy," he answered absently. "Tim Drake is a woman."

Bart blinked, pausing with his hand halfway toward the sauce ladle. "Wha-aat?"

* * *

"So, have you finally decided on someone?" Darla asked, perching on the edge of Tim's desk.

Tim nodded vaguely, mumbling figures underneath her breath as she totaled that month's accounts.

"So, when do I get to meet her?"

"It's a he," Tim replied absently.

Darla blinked. Over the last week, she'd interviewed seventeen women for the job, and only three men; only five people total had gotten to meet Robin, and four of them were female. "A…guy?"

* * *

Kon nodded. "Yeah."

"But I thought his name was Tim!" Bart burst out, brow furrowed in deep lines.

"**Her **name is Tim, short for Timothea," Kon replied with a smirk at his friend's gobsmacked look. Never mind that he'd been just as discombobulated by the revelation.

Bart recovered quickly, however. "Is she pretty?" he asked, fussing over the now-boiling noodles and bubbling sauce.

Kon sputtered, thinking of how Timothea Drake was **more** than just pretty; she was elegant, refined, sophisticated…and seemed to embody the cliché of 'The Ice Queen.' And Kon L. Kent, while considering himself a ladies' man, did not consider himself enough of a Casanova to melt her frosty exterior.

Which was a pity, because she seemed like a woman he'd like to get to know – in a more than professional, or platonic, manner. "Um…yeah." And before Bart could ask anything else, Kon skedaddled to the bathroom.

* * *

Tim nodded, and at Darla's heavy put-upon sigh, turned away from her calculations to continue the conversation face to face. "Yes," she replied.

Darla's lips twisted in something like the offspring of a smirk and a leer. "Is he the cute one that looks like a young, dark-haired Tony Danza?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes in a faux swoon. If she hadn't known Timmie better, she could have sworn she'd chosen her new assistant based on his looks.

Rolling her eyes, Tim groaned. "Quit trying to play matchmaker, Darla."

"I will when I finally get you set up with someone." Despite her flippant tone, Darla was being completely serious.

Shaking her head, Tim told her friend, "Just because it's the plot of all those old TV shows that the nanny ends up with the mother or father, doesn't mean anything in real life. You watch too much _Nick At Nite_, D."

"You need to watch more, T," Darla shot back, unrepentant. "Happily ever afters aren't just for fairy tales."

"Maybe I'll have time now that I have an assistant," Tim told her, and buried herself in her work once more.

Sighing as she realized that her friend was lost to the world – at least until lunchtime, when she'd go down to first floor daycare and pick up Robin – Darla scooted out of the office.

* * *

True to his word, when Kon Kent came to work the next Monday, he was purely professional in his duties.

Well…not **purely**. His default mode with female workers seemed to be set on 'Mild Flirtation' and it couldn't be turned off for any length of time. Thankfully, the same did not apply to executives. Kon **was** purely professional with them, if rather more charming than most of her former secretaries.

His flirt mode also did not seem to apply to men, which Tim found herself thinking was unfortunate, since perhaps if **he** flirted with the drummer in the band Great Frog, Roy Harper would quit making eyes at **her**.

Tim swore that if Roy pulled out another one of his cheesy pick-up lines like, 'Are you carrying a mirror in your pocket? 'Cause I sure can see myself in your pants…' she was going to scream.

No, that would be unprofessional. She'd deck him, and then squeeze his nuts so hard they'd pop, but stop just in time and tell him to quit eyeing her up or next time she wouldn't be so nice.

It was a lovely fantasy, but she'd never do it. No reason why she couldn't assault him verbally, however. Just because they were both single parents with young daughters, Roy seemed to think they should date. Robin and Lian did get along pretty well whenever Lian ended up in the downstairs daycare, but they had very little else in common aside from their working relationship – and Tim wanted it to remain that way.

As with everyone else under her employ. She wouldn't allow herself to be more than friends with anyone she worked with, if that.

* * *

Kon, however, felt much differently on the matter. While professionalism was something he cultivated, he saw nothing wrong with mixing business and pleasure; as long as one remained aware of social proprieties. He also had no problem with workplace romance, though he had always approached dating his superiors, or anyone under his employ, with caution. Sexual harassment laws being what they were, he didn't want to lose his job – or get promoted – on the basis of his 'eye candy' factor alone.

Considering that Drake Records was on the Fortune 500 of big music companies, and tons of different up and coming, and tried and true, artists walked in and out of Tim's office daily, Kon found himself enjoying quite a bit of said ocular confectionary, even if he was unable to provide much in the way of a return. Some of the people in the music business had very…unique…looks, but others were more on the tame side, and they were all interesting in their own ways.

The one he saw the most of was his pre-interviewer, Darla Aquila, the 'Darling Diva' as she'd been coined by the media. When Kon asked, she revealed that the reason for her near-constant presence was that she was taking a few months off before her next big tour.

"I'm branching out from the music business," she told him, lounging casually back in one of the almost sinfully comfortable waiting room chairs outside Miss Drake's office.

Reclining back in own buttery-soft leather chair Kon asked, "You want to be in the movies?" Lots of pop stars seemed to try their hand at acting at one point or another.

Darla shrugged and waggled one hand back and forth in the air. "Maybe. I want to try and break into acting at some point, but right now, I'm trying to get my foundation up and running."

Interest piqued, Kon asked, "Foundation?"

"Yes, a charitable foundation. I call it _The Safe House_." Darla huffed a laugh. "When I was growing up, my father was…not on the right side of the law." Her lips pursed thoughtfully. "I knew that he loved me, but he was…he was an enforcer for the mob. Which one, I don't know. And he was in too deep, or too involved, and was unable to go straight in order to keep his family safe. I…" She looked away. "I almost died once, because of his connections."

Kon blinked. That was…entirely unexpected. Celebrities typically had 'colorful' pasts, but the story she was spinning was right out of a movie of the week. "Wow," was all he could say. He leaned forward in a 'tell me more' pose.

Darla obliged. "Yeah, I know," she said with a wry twist to her lips. "These mob guys started a riot in my high school…just to get to me. Why, I've never been really sure, but… Tim was actually the one who saved my life. She pushed me down right when this guy's gun went off, and we hid in some unused lockers until the police showed up. I found out later that my dad had pissed off someone high up in his 'organization' and someone had decided to take me out to get back at him. But when my dad found out about it, he went after them, and…" She sighed, eyes down, hands folded in her lap. "He ended up dying, instead. I always knew that he loved me, and I think, maybe…he would have rather it turned out the way it did."

"Miss Drake really saved your life?" Kon asked curiously, choosing to gloss over the more intimate details. Talking about death was never easy, that he knew well. And the pained look on her face…

Darla nodded, a half-smile on her face as she reminisced. "That's how we met. She tracked me down the next week to ask me how I was, and I invited her to watch my solo for the school recital that Spring. Timmie tells me that that's when she first knew I could make it big. Meanwhile, I'm thinking and worrying about how Mom and I are going to take care of ourselves now that dad's gone, little knowing that by the time I graduate, thanks to Tim, I'll have a recording contract and a hit single."

Amazing. When Kon was in high school, his part time job had been as a gopher for his mother, or, that one summer, for his father. He hadn't obtained that much ambition until he'd been out of college for a year. "So…this foundation?" he prompted.

"Is going to be focused on community revitalization," Darla revealed. "I figure that if there's no place for organized crime to work, and plenty of legal jobs for the people who used to commit crimes, maybe other kids won't have to go through what I did." She shrugged self-deprecatingly. "I probably won't make much of a dent, but every little bit helps."

"That's true," Kon said. He grinned. "You be sure and let me know where I can send donations." He was sure that he could spare a few dollars every so often.

"Will do, K." Eyes flicking to the clock and back to him, she said, "I'd better jet; I'm supposed to meet a friend for lunch. Talk to you later!" And with a wave, she was gone.

Kon waved back. "Later." Then the phone rang, and he sighed, getting back to work. The secretarial part of his job seemed full-time, and he wondered how he'd ever managed to fit in his as yet not started childcare duties.

It looked like it would be interesting working for Tim 'Timmie' Drake, if only by the company he'd keep.

* * *

Later that evening, Tim Drake arrived at her modest suburban home with a bundle of sleeping girl held carefully in her arms. She'd had to work late, and Robin had missed her afternoon nap, so even though it was barely seven, she was conked out. Unlocking and opening the door one-handed was not as much of a trial as it used to be; she'd had plenty of experience doing everything for Robin herself.

A little voice niggled at the back of her mind, remonstrating, _But didn't you hire Kent so you wouldn't **have** to do everything yourself?_

That was true, as far as it went, but she'd hired Kon so she could spend more time with Robin. That hadn't happened yet, but she was still working through the backlog of paperwork and other such things that her father had left her with, and once that was over…

Once that was over, she'd have to start assigning Kon time with Robin. Otherwise, there would have been no point in hiring a personal assistant as opposed to a new secretary.

Robin squirmed slightly in her sleep, making waking-up-now noises, and Tim's arms were getting tired, so she quickly headed for Robin's bedroom and placed Robin on the twin-sized daybed with its abundance of pillows and stuffed animals. She'd never wanted for anything as a child, except time with her parents, and she had made sure that Robin had no such deficits. New toys, dolls and games, were offset with the time she and Robin spent together playing with them, or reading storybooks. Robin was only three and a half, but she could already read most of _Oh, the Places You'll Go! _by herself, and was making great progress with _The Cat in the Hat _and _The Lorax_.

Tonight, however, there was no need for a bedtime story; Robin was already asleep. And if Timmie missed their nightly ritual, she told herself that it wouldn't be much longer before things were back on track. Kon would handle most of the mundane duties and paperwork associated with her job, freeing her up to spend her spare time with Robin once more, and things would go back to mostly normal.

Timmie Drake clutched her daughter to her, savoring the bliss of being loved and needed by this special child. No matter how hectic her life got, she never forgot that all her life's dreams and ambitions were eclipsed by the wonders of Robin Bernadette Drake.

And the more hectic her life got, the more she wanted to just throw everything away, her job and all its responsibilities, to spend her time with Robin while she was still young enough to want her around, as well as need her. But that was not to be; she couldn't very well leech off her parents' goodwill, and anyway, she'd go crazy with nothing to do all day once Robin started school. She wasn't made to be a stay-at-home mom.

Sighing, Tim kissed Robin on her forehead, tugged her shoes and socks off, and tucked her half-asleep child underneath the covers, before heading for her own cold, lonely bed.

* * *

**Two Months Later**

* * *

The last true day of summer was unseasonably mild, feeling more like early April than late September. After almost three months of sweltering heat, the cool air was greatly appreciated.

In Gotham's Robinson Park, birds sang in the trees and the pigeons were everywhere, begging for crumbs from lunching office workers. Crocuses, daffodils and tulips had come and gone; now rose bushes were blooming in the gardens and along the fences, their heady sweet scent permeating the air and mixing with the smells of good food and the sounds of happy people.

It was the annual Drake Records family picnic and barbeque. Everyone from the lowliest mail room clerk and janitor on up to the CEO herself, was attending.

And Kon was right in the thick of things, trying to keep track of his rambunctious charge. Robin was finally old enough to really partake in the events at the picnic, and was running him ragged trying out everything from the three legged race (in which she teamed up with a friend of hers, Cerdian, son of one of the junior vice presidents), to the sack race (which she won, if only by virtue of being the only one not still digesting lunch and thus able to give it all her incredible energy) and multiple go-rounds on the park's antique carousel, where Kon could finally take a rest break, if only for a few minutes.

Sometimes he wondered if he shouldn't have quit when his trial period was over. Then Robin, or, more rarely, Tim, would smile at him, and Kon knew that he'd never been happier. Even if it had taken three weeks to get completely moved into his new apartment because the two Drake females were running him ragged at work.

"C'mon, Kon, swing with me!" Robin demanded, running towards the playground as fast as her young, yet energetic legs would take her.

Which was much faster than her worn-out nanny could manage on legs that still felt like rubber after a rousing game of tag with Robin and a few of the other kids.

"Okay," Kon said on a sigh, hoisting himself off the ground. "I'm coming, pumpkin," he added, using his favored nickname for her; after her right front tooth had fallen out during the third week of his 'trial period' she'd look nothing so much like a proverbial jack-o-lantern when she grinned. He tiredly trundled after his charge, thankful that at least he didn't have to deal with tons of other kids. There were only a handful that had come with their parents to the picnic, and said parental units had thankfully not fobbed their kids off on him while they went elsewhere. Nanny he might have been, but that didn't make him the de facto babysitter for the entire company.

And thanks to Tim, the amount of people that could just walk into the park that day had also been curbed. Tim had requisitioned the entirety of Robinson Park for the day. Any and all of Drake Records' recording artists were invited to attend the festivities. Most usually didn't show, having other engagements, but occasionally some did drop by. After an incident the previous year with paparazzi hounding pop star Whitney Spires and her then-boyfriend teen idol boy band singer Dustin Toblerone, Tim didn't want any more repeats of that near-disaster.

The casualties may have only been a few broken ice sculptures and some wasted food, but it had been a near-thing with the punch and the stereo speakers. No one was getting electrocuted on her watch, if she had anything to say about it.

Though when the sprinklers went off at two in the afternoon, accidentally catching her in their midst, and her clothes got soaked through… Well, the revelation that she wasn't wearing a bra certainly 'sparked' some interest in Kon.

And in the other men at the picnic, but Kon was the only one whose looks made Tim blush.

* * *

A week later, Robin was bouncing excitedly up and down in front of Kon's desk. "Izzit time yet?" she asked. They were all three taking the afternoon off to spend with Robin – well, mostly; Tim had a conference call at 3:00, which was why Kon was going along with them, so she could head back to the office and Robin could still have her outing – and she was impatient to get started.

"Almost, pumpkin," Kon replied absently as he pushed open the door to Tim's office. "You ready, boss?" he called

"Yup." Tim shut off her computer, grabbed her purse, and quickly locked up her office before following Kon out to the hallway.

"Is it time yet?" Robin asked again, tugging on her mother's hand for attention.

Tim laughed. "Yes, Robin, it's time."

"Yay!" Robin cheered, thundering down the hall toward the elevator. One train ride to nearby Metropolis, two purchased tickets (children under five got in free) and fifteen minutes to apply sunscreen later, they started their tour of the Metropolis Zoo.

"C'n we watch 'em feed tha bats?" Robin asked, tugging on her mother's hand.

Tim winced; the vampire bats got fed blood. Real blood. Robin loved watching the bats 'eat'; she, on the other hand, was nauseated by it. "They already fed them this morning, sweetpea," Tim told her. The bats got fed at nine in the morning; the very reason Tim hadn't let them leave the office until ten.

Robin pouted. "Aww, nuts."

Kon quickly looked through the brochure he was reading. The Metropolis Zoo wasn't just a zoo; it was also next door to the Metropolis Aquarium, with a small park and food court in between the two complexes. A person could spend all day there and not see everything. "They're going to feed the otters at two," he read off the brochure. "And they have the penguin show at three. Plus, if I remember right, there's an exhibit where you can pet a nurse shark." Pet, stroke with two fingers…same thing. Kon also thought he remembered a similar display with sea anemones and starfish from that one trip his sophomore year in high school.

Robin's eyes went wide as saucers. "Really?" she asked, voice almost breathless with awe.

Kon grinned down at her. "Really."

"Cool," Robin said. Then, spying a sign pointing toward the giraffes, she took off, braids bouncing behind her.

Robin was dressed simply for their outing, wearing purple corduroy overalls over a white blouse. Her hair was tied up in pigtails with rainbow ribbons that matched the bows in her white tennis shoes.

In fact… Kon looked closer at his bounding charge – Robin had found that the giraffes were hiding, and, miffed, led them towards the big cat section – noticing that the ribbons matched Robin's shoelaces **exactly**. "I didn't know you could use ribbons as shoelaces," he mentioned to Timmie as they walked briskly behind Robin's bounding form as she scampered excitedly around the different exhibits, oohing and aaahing at the lions and the tigers, and jaguars (or were they panthers?).

"You can't, really," Tim replied, keeping a close eye on Robin as she pressed her face against the Plexiglas between her and the prowling lynx. "There's this one shop that sells these shoelaces, basically ribbons with aglets on the end. I just buy two pairs of everything I get, and that way I always have matching bows for her hair."

"Smart thinking," Kon complimented.

"It's nothing," Tim said, shrugging it off. And by itself, it wasn't much, but Timmie did lots of little things like that, things that spoke of how thoughtful she was.

And not just where it concerned her daughter, Kon noted an hour later as he saw Timmie offer to take an elderly couples' photo in the front of the Galapagos turtle exhibit.

"They're almost as old as we are!" the woman, Molly Scott, laughed as she wrapped an arm around her husband Alan and smiled for the camera.

"Say cheese!" Robin prompted from her perch on the giant turtle statue, and Tim took their picture to a chorus of, "Mozzarella!"

The mention of food had made Kon hungry, and, noting that it was almost noon, Tim decided it was time for lunch. She let Robin pick where they would eat, which was how they wound up eating at _The Pizzazoic Era_, a dinosaur-themed pizzeria.

"Everything within a five-mile radius of the Zoo has an animal theme, doesn't it?" Kon whispered in an aside to Tim as they waited to be seated in one of the jungle-printed booths.

Tim cracked a smile. "Apparently."

"After we eat, c'n we go see tha pandas?" Robin asked, climbing up into the booth. "An' then we c'n go to the aquamarina and see tha otters and tha penguins and pet tha sharks!" she enthused.

Snorting at Robin's mangling of the word 'aquarium,' Kon exchanged a look with Tim as they both took their seats. She nodded, and said aloud, "We can see the pandas, and then head over to the **aquarium** to see the otters. I'm going to have to leave for my meeting before the penguin show, though."

Robin's formerly smiling lips turned down into a pouting frown. "I don't want you to go," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her mother stubbornly.

This was where Kon's real work started; diffusing the ticking tantrum time-bomb that Robin could be when she missed her mother. "She doesn't want to go, either, but she has to work," Kon told Robin. "And you're going to have to remember everything about the penguins and petting the sharks so you can tell her all about it later, okay?"

Robin's mulish expression continued for a few more moments before she sighed and nodded. "O-kay." She stared at the table for a moment, before turning a bright smile on her mother. "C'n we get tha Carniv'rus Rex with extra cheese?"

Tim shook her head with a chuckle, before nodding. "Sure, sweetpea."

Kon didn't even bother to hide his snort of laughter this time. By the time she was old enough to drive, Robin would have the world wrapped around her little finger, he was sure.

* * *

By October, Tim had finally started letting Kon take on more of her responsibilities regarding Robin. Still, it was a bit of a surprise to have him come by and ask if there was any work she needed him to do before the next Tuesday.

Tim blinked wearily up at Kon, trying to ignore the ache in her shoulders as she hunched over her computer. "Tuesday?"

Kon nodded. "Yeah, you know, Halloween?" At her uncomprehending look, he continued, "I mean, I'm not sure if you think Robin's old enough to go trick-or-treating, or if there's even any place to do that around here, but…"

Groaning, Tim shoved away from her desk and dropped her head into her hands. "I can't believe that I **forgot** about Halloween," she said, voice muffled by her fingers. "The Neighborhood Watch has had it planned out for months, and Robin's talked about nothing else since they first started selling the decorations in July."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it," Kon said, coming over to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You've been running yourself ragged over the Enselmo contract. It's, um, understandable that you might have gotten…mixed up on the date."

Tim just whimpered, though the tension in her muscles relaxed slightly underneath Kon's hand.

Kon could guess what she was really upset about. "You know, it doesn't make you a bad mother just because you're busy."

Her head snapped up so fast Kon was sure she'd had gotten whiplash. "What?" she asked in a low, dangerous voice, more than hinting that he'd cut straight to the heart of the matter. The tension had ratcheted back up to its previous heights, and then beyond.

"My mother was a busy a lot of the time, too, but I still knew she loved me," Kon went on, blithely ignoring her tone. "Just like Robin knows you love her," he added with a pointed look.

Slumping down in her seat, Tim sighed. "Thanks," she said, almost inaudibly. "And…I'll send you a few things to look over before Tuesday." She chewed momentarily on her lower lip, and then said apologetically, "But what I really need you to do is take Robin shopping for her costume this afternoon."

Kon blinked. "Sure, no problem."

* * *

It wasn't much of a problem, even though Robin couldn't decide what she wanted to dress up as. Kon remembered buying the plastic smock-and-mask combos at Wal-Mart when he'd been her age – he hadn't really cared about how he looked, but then, he was a boy, and girls and boys were different – but Tim had told him to take Robin to a costume shop in the mall. More expensive, but better looking costumes.

And it had the bonus of not having tons of people doing last minute shopping at 2:00 in the afternoon on a Thursday.

Robin was all over the place, gasping and squealing over the different costumes. She looked at everything from comic book characters to animal costumes, and tried on a butterfly costume, two princess outfits, a giant orange pumpkin that was mostly to make Kon laugh over the nickname he'd gifted her with, and three different Barbie costumes: Malibu, Ballet, and Mermaid.

She finally settled on a fairy princess outfit, pink and purple and poofy, with sparkles and lots of ruffles. Then there was the half-hour hunt for the 'perfectest' magic wand and a tiara to go with the dress, though thankfully hard-soled stretchy slippers were included.

Robin's costume totaled over almost forty dollars. Kon didn't recall ever spending more than twenty bucks on a Halloween costume, not until he'd been in high school, but then, his father had always preached thrift, and that had been one of the few life lessons he'd willingly learned from Clark.

Robin loved her costume, and all the way from the mall back to Drake Records, she kept babbling about how she couldn't wait for Halloween. Once they reached her mother's office, she ran inside to show it to her mother, and then turned to Kon. "You're gonna come tricking and treating, too, right?" she asked.

Sending Timmie a helpless look, Kon said, "Uh…sure, pumpkin."

Tim sighed, but didn't appear displeased.

Robin beamed.

* * *

Tuesday dawned gray and dreary, but the rain that threatened never appeared, and by afternoon, the weather was crisp and cool. Kon arrived early at Tim's house, but at barely past five o'clock, Robin was already in her costume.

Halloween night was filled with the magic that only a young girl out for her first round of trick-or-treating could experience. Seeing the evening through Robin's eyes, even Tim's slightly jaded heart softened.

Kon had a blast. He dressed up as a pirate and went, "Arggh!" tickling Robin under her chin with the feather on his hat to make her giggle.

Tim had also worn a costume: a straw-colored peasant blouse and flowing green skirt, with a dark purple scarf wrapped around her hair and big golden hoops in her ears make her a picture-perfect caricature of a Gypsy. It was more that she'd been cajoled into wearing one by Robin, than actually choosing to dress up, but then who could resist that face, that pout, those pleading, watery eyes? Not her mother, that was for sure.

Kon very wisely did not say anything about Timmie eating all the almond roca candy that ended up in Robin's bright purple pumpkin bucket from that one block on Greenbriar Lane.

Robin's feet started dragging when twilight encroached, and Kon and Tim decided by silent accord that the next street would be the last one before they'd head back to her house.

Walking on their way to the final house, a soft chirping noise came from Tim's waist, and she grimaced. "My cell phone," she explained even as she fumbled the device from her pocket. "You two go on ahead and I'll meet you once I'm finished, okay?"

The mailbox said 'The Fite Family' and the entire house was decked out for the holiday with a foam graveyard out front, filmy white ghosts hanging from the leaf-barren trees. A single light was on the front window, cotton spiderwebs stretched across the other darkened panes. A rotund black cat was snoozing on the porch, and as they approached the front door, Kon saw that it had white paint on it in straggly lines, probably supposed to be a skeleton. Most of the line appeared to have been rubbed off; either by the cat's tongue, or the rain earlier in the day. And since the cat wasn't moving around, the fright factor was very low. No walking bag of bones there; that fat feline was more like a giant fur pillow.

"Wow…" Robin breathed, eyes agog as she took in the sight of the decked out domicile. "A real haunted house!" She turned to her mother and beamed her gap-toothed grin. "Think dere's a witch inside?" she asked excitedly.

Tim appeared to be at a loss. "Umm…"

"Probably," Kon opined. He crouched down next to Robin and held a finger to his lips. "But she might be…in disguise, you know? Witches are very private about their business. So if she doesn't look like a witch, you shouldn't say anything, okay?" He set his mouth in a serious line and hoped she'd swallow the line of bull he was feeding her.

Kon's hopes were not in vain. Nodding so frantically that it almost seemed like her head would bob off, Robin said, "Okay, Kon!" Then she ran down the front walk towards the supposed witch, and whatever candy she'd cooked up in her cauldron.

"You're good with her," Tim said quietly, the words almost seemed to have been dragged from her.

"She's a good kid," Kon replied, because he really didn't know what else to say.

Tim gave that little half-smile of hers that she only wore when she was truly happy. "That she is."

By the time the two of them got to the door, Robin was bouncing up and down on her toes with impatience. She'd taken her mother's warning earlier in the evening about staying away from strangers to heart. "C'n I ring tha bell now?" she entreated.

"Yes," Kon and Tim chorused. They exchanged looks at their unexpected synchronicity and both grinned sheepishly.

Robin just shook her head at the silly grown ups and pressed the doorbell, a muffled dinging noise reaching their ears through the door. After a few tense moments, the door literally **creaked** open, and Kon felt himself shiver as he remember way too many cheesy horror movies watched while he consumed way too much popcorn with his friend Bart.

It didn't help that when someone finally appeared in the darkened doorway, it was a woman with long, stringy black hair, wearing what looked like an outfit copied directly off of the voodoo priestess of the _Pirates of the Caribbean _sequel. Black and ragged, with lots of chains and charms and talismans; she even had what looked like chicken feet dangling from her neck, and a string of bones around her waist.

The woman, Mrs. Fite, even looked to be of Jamaican origin, albeit younger than her movie counterpart. Also, all her teeth appeared to be the originals. And her smile was sweet, and not half-demented.

Robin just gaped at the lady for long moments, before finally closing her mouth with an audible click. She swallowed hard and then the arm holding her nearly full candy bucket shot out tremulously. "Um…trick or treat?" she squeaked, visibly set back by coming face to face with – to her mind – a **real** witch.

The witch smiled. "And what trick will you give me for your treat?" the woman teased.

Robin stilled, obviously not expecting that. No one else had required her to 'sing for her supper' as it were. "Um…" She looked down at her shoes, and worried her lower lip between her teeth, then turned her gaze back up to the witch. "I c'n do a handstand, but not in this skirt." She thought for another moment and then turned to Kon with a bright smile. "You c'n do somethin', right, Daddy?"

So surprised by hearing Robin call him 'Daddy' that he didn't think to protest, Kon cast about for anything he could do that would qualify as a trick, and finally came up with something that might work. Taking his plastic sword and eyepatch, and Robin's tiara and sparkly wand, he began to juggle them. Haphazardly at best, but at least none of them fell on the ground.

For the first few minutes.

Mrs. Fite laughed as Kon struggled to make sure he caught each of his juggled objects, the man making a better impression of a clown than a juggler. Once Kon had wobbled to a stop and got the four items returned to their appropriate places, she pulled out a platter of plastic-wrapped popcorn balls. "My own special recipe," she said. "Caramel and chocolate glazed."

Robin's eyes lit up. "Oooh…"

Clearing her throat, Mrs. Fite said, "However, since he's the one that did the trick, he's the one that gets the treat."

Robin pouted until he gave her the popcorn ball.

When Tim caught sight of the sugary, sticky homemade treat, she just said, "It's a good thing we got toothbrushes at that dentist's house."

* * *

By November, Tim had grown more accustomed to Kon's almost constant presence. It wasn't unusual for either of them to spend time together outside of work. Timmie didn't like driving, at all – she preferred to take the train to work, even if it took longer – so it became the norm for Kon to pick both her and Robin up for work; the three of them together meant they qualified for the carpool lane, and could get to work faster. More than once she and Kon worked through lunch together so that they could leave on time, and when they didn't get to leave on time, Kon, with pleading from Robin, and not much protest from Tim, would join them both for dinner.

It took Timmie awhile to realize that, for all intents and purposes, she was dating her secretary/nanny. Just…without the romance.

And if a part of her felt cheated by that, Tim sternly told herself that she didn't have **time** for romance. She had a full-time job, and was raising a daughter, and there was not much room for anyone else in her life besides a few close friends. Kon was just another friend.

She always had been good at self-delusion.


	3. Rocky Road To Romance

**Rocky Road To Romance**

* * *

November sixth dawned gray and cloudy, with a cold bite to the air. Kon was on his way out the door when his phone rang, and, biting back a curse, he pulled his keys out of the lock and fumbled his cell phone out of his pocket.

"Hello?" he said, slightly breathless.

"Kon?"

"Yeah?" Kon blinked, frowning in confusion as he tried to place the slightly nasal, yet distinctly feminine voice. For some reason, he was reminded of Fran Drescher…

"I'm going to be late to work today," his boss' voice continued, "so I was wondering if you could get started on putting together the last of the Anselmo contract."

"Sure, I can do that," Kon replied reflexively. "Um, you sound…odd; is everything okay?" There, was innocuous enough; definitely better than 'You sound like shit' or 'Did someone die?'

Tim made a hoarse half-sniffle, half-snorting noise, as if her sinuses were severely blocked up. "Just have a little cold…nothing to be concerned about." Across the phone lines, Kon heard her sneeze and then cough, sounding as if she was simultaneously hacking up a lung and trying not to throw up.

_A 'little' cold,_ Kon thought disbelievingly. _Riiiight._ "If you're sure." _Wonder if she's got that flu that's been going around…_

"I am," Tim replied, and hung up.

Kon would have been worried over Tim's illness making her act differently, but she'd always been rather abrupt where work was concerned. Politeness and the niceties thereof were for the artists and other record execs; the people who worked for her got to deal with her curt, cold, and sometimes inadvertently cruel mannerisms.

Kon actually thought her bitchiness was kind of cute, in a 'Teeny-tiny toy poodle staring down the big mean German Shepherd' kind of way.

And he would never ever share that thought with her on pain of death and dismemberment.

* * *

Kon decided that, for once, he was going to go against his boss' 'orders.' Instead of heading in to work, he stopped at a nearby Walgreen's to pick up some cough drops and decongestant syrup, and then headed across town to Timmie's house. He lived about fifteen miles away from Drake Records, and so did she, but they were on opposite sides of town. Tim lived in a quiet suburban neighborhood on the west side of Gotham, and Kon lived in an old, yet well-built brownstone apartment on the east end of town, only a scant few miles away from the nearby city of Metropolis.

On the freeway, it would have only taken twenty-five minutes to get to Timmie's house, but road work and a three-car pile-up blocked traffic. Add to that that it was rush hour, and by the time Kon arrived at Timmie's house, he felt sure that she would already have been on her way to work, and he'd be in deep shit.

Seeing Timmie's sensible sedan still parked inside through the window in the garage door, however, Kon started to worry. Had Tim passed out? Was she okay? Was **Robin** okay?

He wasn't quite out of his mind with his worry, however, and rang the doorbell instead of hunting for the key underneath the pot of geraniums on the front stoop. Kon tapped his foot impatiently as he waited, counting down the seconds. If Timmie hadn't answered the door after a minute, he'd get the key and go in.

It was at the count of fifty-five that Kon heard the grating sound of the deadbolt being turned, and then he was looking down at Tim's haggard countenance – and taking in the sight of her illness-ravaged body, which, all told, looked pretty good.

Timothea was wearing a faded purple fleece top that was slipping down one shoulder, revealing the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. The pale pink band of her panties peeked out above the waist of her baggy gray sweatpants. She was barefoot, and her hair was a rat's nest of a mess, half of it still scraped back in a messy ponytail, the other half lying in limp scraggly strands around her puffy face.

Kon thought she looked rather cute with her watery eyes, red cheeks, and pouty, glaring lips. But that was another thing he didn't dare tell her.

Tim blinked up at him blearily. "Kon?" She sniffled, even as she shuffled back inside, allowing him to enter. "What…what are you doing here?" she asked, closing the locking the fumbling the door locked behind him.

"You sounded really sick, so I thought I'd bring you some medicine," Kon replied, brandishing the plastic bag he held.

Wiping her runny nose with the tissue in her hand, Tim asked, brow furrowing in confusion, "But I just called you… How could you have gotten here so quickly?"

It was Kon's turn to be perplexed. "Uh…you called me over an hour ago," he said slowly.

Timmie blinked fuzzily up at him from her position propped against the wall. "I did?"

Kon nodded. "Yeah. You said you were sick, so I stopped by a drug store to get you some medicine, and then there was an accident on the interstate," he explained with a shrug. "You must have fallen back asleep after you called me. You obviously need your rest." He gave her a pointed look.

Her eyes narrowed at his patronizing tone, lips twisting in a mulish grimace, before her headache resurfaced and she whimpered at the pain. "But Robin…" Tim protested helplessly, even as she slumped further against the wall.

"Doesn't go to school, so it's not like she has to be anywhere today," Kon quickly reassured her, moving closer in case she needed some support.

"But if I don't take care of her, who will?" Tim asked, looking lost, alone, and, hidden in the back of her eyes, afraid.

Kon tried not to feel affronted that Tim seemed to have forgotten that she'd hired **him** for expressly such a purpose. It was clear that she was feverish, and her typically sharp mind was clearly working slower than usual. "The daycare does when you can't, right?"

Timmie turned belligerent. "I don't like her being there without me in the building."

That was easy enough to solve. "Then she can stay here, with you."

Tim licked her dry lips, and her face turned redder as she blushed. "But if I'm not well enough to take care of her…" she said, admitting what Kon had known ever since she'd called.

"I'll stay here, too." Kon smiled at his solution.

Tim blinked. "Whaaat?"

Kon was also a bit surprised by how rashly he'd offered to stay, but he thought it made the most sense. "I'm your personal assistant, right?" Kon grinned self-deprecatingly. "Let me assist you – and Robin."

Too tired to put up much more of a fight, Tim said, "Only if you can manage to get the rest of your work done as well." She was a stickler and a hard-ass even when she was sick.

For some reason, Kon wasn't surprised. "Of course, boss." He nodded and herded her back down the hall, towards where her bedroom presumably was.

* * *

Considering that Tim spent most of the day sleeping, and Kon could work on his computer while watching Robin watch TV, that wasn't as hard a bargain to fulfill as Timmie likely thought it was. He made a few false starts trying to figure out how to cook chicken noodle soup on her gas stove, as opposed to the electric ranges he was used to, but quickly figured it out. He only burned one can, from then on deciding to stick with the microwave.

Kon had to make a quick trip back to his apartment – Robin in tow, of course – for a change of clothes and a few toiletries, because he'd realized by mid-afternoon that he couldn't very well leave Tim and Robin on their own in the house, even overnight. He also stopped by the office to pick up some work.

Timothea's house had several spare bedrooms, but none of them had actual beds. The sofa in the living room was surprisingly comfortable, however, if way too short for Kon's large frame. Tim was so out of it the first few days, Kon was sure she didn't even realize that he'd spent the night.

The next few days passed in similar ways. Kon quickly grew tired of catching snatches of the old Disney movies that Robin watched, but he couldn't really complain about the TV doing most of his babysitting for him, since Tim was in the 'shiver with cold, burn with fever, sleep, wake, eat, get wracked with chills, throw everything up, sleep, wake, drink some water, repeat' phase of her flu. He got almost no work done, but without Timmie awake to give him more, he figured he could at least keep up.

And Tim wasn't really enough of a stickler that she'd fire him over choosing to take care of her instead of work…was she?

On Wednesday he had to take Robin with him to the grocery store because Timmie had eaten all the soup in the house. Well, eaten it and then thrown most of it back up, but Kon thought some of the saltines and the apple juice had stayed down. He also bought more medicine, some alka seltzer, Tylenol for fevers, and tons of crackers and juice.

He would have bought some Vicks Vapo-Rub, but he didn't think that Tim would appreciate him applying it, even if he could bring himself to do it with her so sick and out.

By Friday, Tim was, thankfully, starting to look a little better. Her fever was much lower, and she was actually able to eat some substantial food, and keep it down.

It was still a bit of a surprise to wake up on Saturday morning and hear the unmistakable sizzling sound of bacon frying in the kitchen. For one terrifying moment, Kon was sure that Robin was in trouble, but then he scolded himself; Robin knew better than to use anything other than the ice cream scoop by herself.

Cursing as the rasp of stubble on the pillows reminded him that he'd forgone shaving the other day, Kon fought his way out of the tangle of sheets, blankets, and the quilt from Robin's bed that she'd insisted on lending him. He combed his fingers through his hair to try and neaten up his bedhead – or would that be couchhead? – and plodded to the kitchen, wishing he knew what had happened to his socks. His feet were freezing on the linoleum floor.

"Morning, Kon!" Robin chirped as he slumped down in a chair at the table.

"Morning, pumpkin," Kon said on a yawn as he ruffled her hair.

Grinning, Robin waved towards her mother. "Mama's all better now!"

Stealing a glance towards the stove, Kon took in the sight of Timmie cooking. She was wearing jeans and a raggedy sweatshirt with Kermit the Frog on it, thick socks on her feet.

Kon envied her the socks for a moment, before he noted that her eyes were still glazed over with fever, and face was flushed, and not just from the heat off the stove. Tim wasn't 'all better now'; **much** better, clearly, since she wasn't swaying on her feet, but she was still sick. "Should you be out of bed?" he asked without thinking.

Shooting him a glare with more heat than her previous fever of one hundred and two, Timmie said, "Yes. Shouldn't you be wearing clothes?"

Her scathing words were enough to put a blush on Kon's face – and remind him of the fact that, while he was currently wearing black flannel pajamas pants, which were opaque, unlike his light blue cotton ones, he **wasn't** wearing underwear. "Not before I shower," he managed through a strangled throat. "Um…I'll do that right after breakfast?"

Tim gave him a look, and turned back to her cooking, saying, "I hope you like your eggs scrambled; I don't feel up to making specific orders."

Knowing that that was as close as he was going to get to an apology and a concession on her still being sick, Kon said, "Scrambled's fine. Anything I can do?"

"Make toast?" Robin offered. She smiled brightly. "With cinnanamon 'n sugar?"

Tim laughed. "Only if it's wheat bread. And you drink all your milk," she added sternly, pointing her spatula at her daughter. "You don't need to be bouncing off the walls all day."

"Oh, please no," Kon whispered under his breath. He'd made the mistake of buying popsicles at the grocery store, thinking that Tim need the liquid, and maybe she'd be able to keep them down. Robin had eaten half the box on Thursday, and nearly run him ragged playing hide and seek in the backyard.

Tim grinned at him wickedly. "And remember, Kon; you'd better be getting all your work done."

Timmie's soft laughter and Robin's high-pitched giggles were an ironic counterpoint to the muffled banging of Kon's head on the table.

* * *

Tim went back to bed after breakfast, but by mid-afternoon, she was up and moving again. Kon found her in the kitchen drinking some bottled water; when he entered, she blushed and turned away.

Puzzled, Kon said, "You feeling better?"

Tim coughed and met his eyes only briefly. "Yes, yes, I am." She licked her lips and blushed again. "Thanks to you."

"I was glad to help," Kon said, almost blushing as well from the honest emotion even he could hear in his own voice.

"Still…" Tim picked at the label on her bottle of water. "I want to apologize for putting you out this week, Kon."

"You didn't put me out," Kon told her, noting her typical distancing tactic of formality. Tim didn't deal well with emotion, save with her daughter. "Not really. Besides, it's my job to take care of you." It was only because he was so focused on her apparent discomfort that he let that slip.

Tim's eyes narrowed. "It's your job to take care of **Robin**," she corrected.

Kon felt righteous indignation well up inside of him at yet another instance of her trying to keep their relationship 'strictly professional.' The lines never blurred with her, and if it hadn't been for Robin, Kon knew he never would have gotten even this close to Tim. Was there some reason they couldn't be friends? "Well, maybe I want to take care of you, too," he said stringently, shocking both of them with the bald truthfulness of his words.

Timmie appeared stricken, and more than a little confused. It was as if she couldn't fathom anyone except Robin caring about her. "Why?" she asked in a voice as small as his had been loud.

That, more than anything, caused Kon's anger to drain out of him like water through a sieve. "Because…" Kon sought for the right words to tell Timmie how important she, not just Robin, had become to him…and couldn't find them. Instead, he reached out, cupping the back of her head with one hand and capturing her soft lips in a soul-shaking kiss.

Kon had no idea what he'd expected to happen when he kiss Timmie. Would she push him away? Would she get mad and maybe punch him? Would she fire him, or threaten to report him for sexual harassment? Would she pull back and tell him she didn't feel the same way?

Would she kiss him back?

What Timmie did was still in his arms, and Kon felt her start to pull away, but then…then something seemed to switch in her brain, and she melted against him, soft and warm and willing.

Kon knew he needed to make the most of this opportunity, because he was sure that once Tim had a chance to think over her actions, she'd decide it had been a mistake. He just prayed for Robin to stay occupied while he was with her mother.

Kon pressed closer to Timmie, rubbing his hands across her back, feeling the lines of her bra with his fingers. He traced one hand down her arm and oh-so-gently brushed against her sweatshirt-covered breast, thumbing the nipple through the thin cotton and causing her to gasp at his touch. He took advantage of her now-open mouth and moved his tongue into the kiss. After a moment's pause in surprise, she did the same, one hand fisting in his shirt as she kissed him back, deeply, wetly.

Kon's free hand twisted in Timmie's curly black locks while the other continued its downward journey, stroking down past her waist, lightly caressing her jeans-clad ass and upper thigh. As he reached her mid-thigh, he pulled her against him, feeling her wrap one leg around his waist to encourage this endeavor.

Timmie startled both of them as she moaned quietly deep in her throat and pressed closer to him. He could feel every curve of her as she pressed herself against him and it excited him even more. Kon felt his cock grow hard and heavy as the beautiful woman he was kissing straddled his lap as best she could while they were both still standing.

The thought that this would be easier, and better, in a bed crossed his mind, but just then Timmie froze in his arms. And this time, instead of pressing closer to him, she did pull away.

Kon had been expecting her to do that, but still it hurt him, almost literally, to feel her move away from him.

They stood there, barely a breath apart, lips bruised with kisses and faces flushed with passion. Tim stared at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights, and Kon tried to look reassuring in return; 'Hey, it's okay; if you're freaked out, we can stop.'

But Timmie wasn't just freaked out; she appeared to want to turn back time and have it never have happened. Her hands were shaking almost as much as her voice as she said, "W-we can't."

Instead of asking why, Kon just said, voice husky with unsuppressed want, "We?" He had a feeling he might get a more honest answer that way.

She shuddered and closed her eyes. "**I **can't," she admitted. "I haven't in so l– I don't know if I ever can…" Cutting herself off, Tim wrenched out of his embrace and ran headlong down the hallway back to her room.

Kon found himself standing in the kitchen, staring after her retreating form. His thoughts were a whirlwind, and he wondered if she was really worth it, all the issues she seemed to have.

The strange thing was, he was pretty sure the answer was yes.

* * *

Kon went back to his apartment that night, knowing that Tim was nearly finished recovering from her bout with the flu. She didn't call him, and on Monday, work went along as usual. Kon wasn't sure why Timmie seemed so gun-shy of a relationship, but after discreet inquiries around the watercooler about Robin's father yielded no results, he had a few theories.

Timothea Drake was a strong woman, that he'd been able to see from the very start. If the father had just been a regular deadbeat dad, Tim would have gotten angry, not sad. But it wasn't just sadness, it was also hurt, and… She clearly loved Robin, but if the father was someone who had…attacked her…then Tim was a stronger woman than Kon had ever known.

It would explain certain things, but somehow, it didn't quite fit. She didn't seem **afraid** of him, or any man, really, just…sad whenever the concept of romance came up. Kon still resolved to tread carefully around Timmie, however, because her feelings were clearly fragile, even if nothing else about her – not even her heart – was softer than steel.

Except, perhaps, her body.

* * *

**Two Weeks Later**

* * *

Kon was glad to note that Tim had finally stopped avoiding his touch. She'd been subtle about it, and no one else seemed to have noticed, but Kon could see her going out of her way to stay at least three feet away from him at all times.

She'd finally eased up, though, and they were back to their usual friendly camaraderie. And if Kon would have liked it to be more, well, he kept those feelings to himself. He knew Tim wasn't ready.

Wednesday afternoon, Kon brought in some files for Tim to look over, and when he made to leave, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Kon, I'm going to need you to be at this address on the second, if that's all right?" Tim said, holding out a slip of paper.

Kon looked dumbly down at her hand and absently accepted the paper.

"I realize it's a Saturday," Tim said, removing her hand and giving him a commiserating glance over his missed day off, "but it's the grand opening of Darla's community center, and I need you to watch Robin while I handle the press."

Kon managed to gather enough of his wits around him to nod. "Sure. What time should I be there?" he asked, pocketing the address slip.

"Ten AM," Tim replied. "I need to get there early to talk to the press and get things arranged. Once the ribbon is cut, there will be a meet and greet with hors d'oeuvres so the media can get their soundbites." She paused a moment, thinking that her grandmother's recipe for raspberry cheesecake chocolate bars had gone over well at the company picnic, and maybe she needed to make more of them. "We should be done by two, and then you can head on home."

"Fine with me," Kon said, and went back to his desk hoping there would be lots of pastry at the after-party, maybe with those raspberry cheesecake chocolate brownie things they'd had at the picnic.

* * *

On Saturday, Kon drove downtown to the address he'd been given, noting how the buildings around him grew even more rundown the further away he got from the city. Then, as he neared the destination, they got cleaner, and while still shabby, the apartments and tenements had obviously been fixed up quite recently.

Pulling his car over to the side of the street, Kon parked and headed over to the milling crowd around the large brick building, a shiny white sign proclaiming in large black letters that it was grand opening of _The Safe House_. Once he reached the fringes of the crowd, he stopped in his tracks, grimacing at what he saw.

What had captured his attention wasn't the giant red ribbon draped across the front door, waiting to be cut with the over-sized scissors, or the large throng of people churning around said entrance. It wasn't even Timmie, who was wearing a form-fitting black pantsuit, with a red bolero jacket and matching heels, looking even more stunning than usual, though just as sexy.

No, what had captured Kon's attention were the two reporters – the **only** two reporters, it seemed – standing near the front of the throng, Daily Planet press badges clipped to their clothes. He'd had no idea his father and step-mother would be there. If they saw him…

His new lease on life would be over.

It might have been petty, but Kon did not want Clark Kent, or Lois Lane, to interfere in the life he'd made for himself – without them.

Heart sinking and stomach twisting up with guilt, Kon snuck back to his car and high-tailed it back to his apartment. _I'll have to think up some excuse for Timmie…but I just can't risk it._

* * *

Tim had shown up early for the grand opening of _The Safe House_, Robin in tow. Darla was willing to watch her for short stretches between making sure that everything was running smoothly.

As the clock ticked down towards the ceremony, ten o'clock coming nearer and nearer, Tim started to worry, a frown furrowing her brow. Traffic might have held him up, but she had expected Kon to have arrived before then.

Where was he?

* * *

By eleven, Timothea Drake had moved beyond worry into righteous fury. Wherever Kon was, he certainly wasn't at the grand opening. Tim was steamed; she'd told him specifically to be there. While there were workers on staff to take care of the children in the daycare part of the center, she'd wanted someone she trusted watching Robin.

If she couldn't even trust Kon to show up on time, she certainly wouldn't trust him with her daughter.

"You're mad, huh, T?" Darla asked.

Resisting the urge to growl, 'No shit, Sherlock,' knowing that Darla wasn't the source of her ire, Tim asked, "What gave it away, D?"

"The smoke coming out of your ears," Darla replied sweetly. "Or maybe just how loudly you're grinding your teeth."

Purposely willing her jaw to un-tense – she didn't need to waste time at the dentist – Tim kept a close eye on Robin, who was playing on the playground, and inwardly seethed, left hand twisting the strap of her purse into something resembling a strand of DNA.

"Does he do this often?" Darla asked idly, eyeing the crowd of people around the punch bowl and hoping none of the teenagers from the neighborhood spiked it. Lane and Kent, the dynamic reporting duo from Metropolis, had been given the exclusive for her story, and she just knew that Lois would stick something in about her 'contributing to the delinquency of minors' if anything 'unsavory' happened.

"No, this is the first time he's ever done this. He's always punctual, and he's never completely missed an event like this!" Tim threw her hands up in the air. "If he ever is going to be late, he calls."

"Well, considering that this is the first time this has happened, maybe you should cut him some slack." At Tim's uncomprehending look, Darla went on, "Give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he has a good explanation. Maybe he ran out of gas someplace where his cell phone had no service."

"Awfully convenient," Tim replied with a huff, even knowing that it was entirely possible.

"Maybe he had a family emergency," Darla offered. "Or…he could have been in an accident."

Tim snorted in disbelief. After a few moments, however, she said, voice full of reluctance, "Maybe." Another car accident taking someone from her…

No. She wouldn't have it.

She'd give Kon chance to explain himself, and if he tried to bullshit her, she'd give him his two weeks notice. He couldn't just come into her life and make her daughter love him, and…and **kiss** her, and then turn out to be a complete jerk.

* * *

Monday morning, Kon came into work as usual. Tim, unexpectedly, wasn't there, and he breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief, before starting to worry over what excuse he would give for his absence. Every minute that passed brought Kon no closer to solving his dilemma – because the only **good** explanation was the **truth** – and by lunchtime he was cringing at every sound.

Tim came into work at one o'clock, Robin nowhere in sight – though, presumably, she was in the daycare. She came to a halt in front of Kon's receptionist desk and glared at him.

Kon shrank back in his chair, feeling about ten inches tall. "Um…good afternoon, Miss Drake?" he offered weakly

Tim's glare just got more heated at that. "Mr. Kent," she said, so sweetly that it was clear she was on the verge of killing him with 'kindness.' "I presume that you have a good explanation for your absence this past Saturday?"

Kon suddenly felt like **he** was the toy poodle – about to be eaten by the German Sheppard. And no, he wasn't going to compare Timothea Drake to a bitch even in his thoughts. "Umm…"

"Because if you don't, then I can assure you **I** will have a good explanation for why I'll be firing you," Tim continued with her rant. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I, uh… You didn't tell me that Clark Kent and Lois Lane were going to be interviewing Darla," Kon sputtered, cringing as she realized how much he'd given away. Their article 'Diva Opens Safe House' had been the front page of the society section in the Sunday edition of the _Daily Planet_.

Tim leaned forward, planting her hands firmly on Kon's desk – and, not incidentally, giving him a good view of her cleavage down the front of her dark purple dress where her jacket gaped open. She really was a master of tactics, be they battle, boardroom, or…base. "Why did you not show up at the grand opening?" she demanded, practically seething with suppressed rage, and proving that that old saying about anger and beauty being connected was true. At least in her case.

All these thoughts ran through Kon's mind as he struggled to grasp hold of the explanation he'd been going to give for his actions. But the only one that he could remember…was the truth. He had wanted to hide from his heritage, but…a person couldn't hide from himself. Kon knew it was time to come clean with Timmie. "Because…I know them."

Tim waited for him to continue, eyes narrowing when Kon remained silent. "And…?" she prompted.

"We…don't always get along." Kon knew he was being difficult about dragging things out, but he'd thought it would be easier to explain things to her, having somehow forgotten that she was a strong, capable woman who brooked no nonsense, not some simpering milquetoast maid in a romance novel.

That fierceness came to the fore again as she glared at him with the fiery heat of a thousand and one suns. "And you're unable to remain professional with people you don't like?" Tim demanded.

"I can, but Clark is…" Kon wet his lips, knowing that his growing feelings for Timmie were only part of the reason he wanted to tell her the truth. Mostly, he just…felt like he was lying to her, and even if they never became more than friends, he felt she deserved to know. "Clark is my father."

Tim appeared to be slightly set back by that. She cocked her head to side, mulling over his words. "You're…Conner Kent?" Clark Kent and Lois Lane were very famous journalists. They were considered the best of the best, which was why Tim had given them the exclusive for Darla's grand opening. Between them, they had won four Kerth awards and a Pulitzer. Clark's son by business mogul Lena Luthor, Conner, was less well-known, both of his parents striving to keep him out of the spotlight, but Timmie had done her research well, as Kon knew she would.

"Conner Luthor Kent, or, as you know me, Kon L. Kent," Kon confirmed. Kon had been his childhood nickname; he suffered from a mild form of dyslexia, and had had a problem with spelling up until second grade. He'd spelled his first name with a K, to match his last name. The L in his new pseudonym was for Luthor, and there were enough Kents in the world that he'd decided he could risk using it as his last name.

Not that Kon actually expected his father to spend a lot of time trying to track him down. And his mother already knew what he was doing, and tacitly approved.

Tim nodded fractionally. "Why did you lie about…everything?" he asked.

"I didn't, exactly. I've been Kon Kent for almost three years now. I just…" He sighed, slumping down over his desk to avoid Timmie's piercing gaze. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, absently noting that he needed a haircut. "I wanted to make a clean break with my past. Clark kept trying to get me to become a reporter, and he never wanted to let me do my own thing. My mother was supportive, but I didn't want to keep working for her; I wanted to make my own way in the world. So I created this alternate identity – which is perfectly legal, she made sure of it – and…here I am." He shrugged helplessly, unable to tell from his quick glance at her closed expression whether or not Tim was accepting his explanation.

Tim at least appeared to be thinking over his words. She'd even stopped looming over him like the Dark Spectre of Death. "Other than your name, what did you…"

"I didn't lie about anything else," Kon hastened to reassure her. "I kept personal information vague on purpose."

Tim appeared to accept that, but her eyes were still hard. "Still, this is…big." Her voiced made it clear she considered that an understatement.

Kon, on the other hand, didn't consider it so much a breach of trust as…well, as him keeping his private life private. Like Timmie had done. "Not so big." He still felt guilty about it, though.

"Compared to what?" Tim asked acerbically.

Taking a deep breath, for he didn't know if this was right time or place, Kon rose to face her and said, "Compared to everyone in the company wondering who Robin's father is."

Tim tensed, eyes going wide with something not unlike panic. "I…" She backed away, pulled up short by the hand he reached out to place on her arm.

"I'd be the last person to tell you that you don't have a right to your secrets," Kon said seriously. "But one day, probably soon, Robin's going to ask you…about him. Maybe you need to figure out what to tell her."

Tim let out a shaky breath. "I know. I…I always planned to tell her the truth. I just…never have told anyone before." Darla and her parents already knew, and she hadn't made any close friends since…since it had happened.

"What is the truth?"

Tim looked at him critically, and Kon felt as if she was evaluating his very soul, weighing and measuring it against some internal standard. He wasn't sure if he was equal to it, but he hoped she'd give him a chance to get there.

"Not here," she said, and stormed briskly out of the waiting room. Kon blinked, then hurried to catch up to her. By the time he reached her, she had already opened her office door, and once he was inside, she locked it behind her, going to stand in front of her desk. She looked at the framed picture of herself and Robin that took center stage, and the myriad smaller ones grouped around it, before turning around and going to stare out of the window on the busy street below. "You know those after school specials that tell you that you can get pregnant even if you don't have sexual intercourse?"

A bit puzzled by her line of questioning, but nonetheless willing to listen, Kon nodded.

Tim gestured at the pictures back on her desk. "Living proof," she said, eyes hollow with remembrance.

Kon was solidly set back, if not actually stunned.

"His name was Bernard Robin Dowd," Tim said, finally giving rest to the question that seemed to be on everyone's mind: the identity of Robin's father. She snorted. "He hated his middle name. Thought it was 'too girly.'" She glanced at the large picture of Robin again, before her eyes tracked back to the window. "He was my best friend since pre-school. We didn't start dating until nearly the end of sophomore year, but…it didn't take us long to fall in love." The wistful smile on her face was a bittersweet counterpoint to the tears brimming in her eyes.

"A few weeks before school ended, he…he asked me to marry him." Timmie's hand crept up to the circular charm on her ever-present necklace; the one with a very small diamond chip. "We…celebrated, I guess you could say." The blush that highlighted her cheeks only accentuated her sadness at the telling of her story as she turned around once more to look at Robin's photos. "We'd decided to wait until our honeymoon for…but that one time was enough."

Tim sighed, almost viciously turning away from her daughter to stare moodily out the window. "It was only a week after graduation that I got the call." Her hands clenched into fists and she said through gritted teeth, "Some stupid…man…had gotten drunk and ran a red light when Bernard was crossing the street." Anger warred with sadness on her face. "I threw up the next morning. I thought it was grief. But it kept happening, until finally, a week after the funeral, my step-mother dragged me to the doctor."

Sensing that she needed some participation on his part, Kon said softly, "And you found out you were pregnant."

Tim nodded jerkily. "When I heard that, I was…I was so sad, because I knew that Bernard would never get to meet his child. But I was also so happy, because I still had a part of him with me. And I knew I had to snap myself out of my funk. If only for…for our baby's sake." Her eyes winked closed on her tears, then snapped open. "It's been almost five years, I don't know why I–" She broke off, turning away, muffled sobs reaching his ears.

Kon instinctively gathered her into his arms, rubbing her back in slow circles to try and comfort her. "Maybe…maybe it's because you never really allowed yourself to grieve and move on," he offered.

Tim tensed slightly in his arms, even as she allowed herself to sniffle softly. "Do you really think that's it?" she asked after a few minutes.

"When I was seventeen, I started college," Kon said, voice soft and wistful with nostalgia. "I met a fourth-year journalism student, and fell head over heels. Tana and I were only together for that year, but I loved her with all my heart."

He sighed, and turned bright eyes to look out the window. "And then someone tried to kidnap me to get money from my mother, and she was…she tried to stop them, and they k– shot her." He swallowed down the memories and the misery.

Timmie just stood there, looking at his saddened countenance, unable to think of anything to say.

Kon clenched his eyes shut, expelling a breath of air, then looked at her with all due seriousness. "It took me years to get past it. But I did."

"Get past it?" Tim parroted back.

Expression hooded, Kon smiled bittersweetly as he watched Robin through the window. "You never really get **over** losing someone you love."

Tim shuddered in his arms at the thought of what – of **who** – she could still lose. "No, you don't," she said tearfully against his chest, crumpling up into a sobbing ball of hurt, and letting him hold her.


	4. Friends Are Family, Too

**Friends Are Family, Too**

* * *

_I'll have a bluuuue Christmas, without you…_

Hearing the Muzak blaring over the department store's intercom, Kon had to admit that the music fit his mood. He was a bit surprised by how fast it seemed to be happening, but he was really falling fast for Timothea Drake. He'd thought that sharing their big 'secrets' would have brought him and Timmie closer, but she still seemed to hold him at arm's length.

That Timmie hadn't pushed him any further away was a miracle. And he and Robin seemed to be almost as close as father and daughter. Well…maybe not **quite** that close, but he was definitely closer to Robin than he'd ever been to his own father, if not as close as he was with his mother.

Kon smiled smugly as he exited Macy's department store. The mention of miracles brought to mind the fact that he'd finished his Christmas shopping, and with over a week before Christmas, besides.

Now all he needed to do was find a quiet moment to give Timmie and Robin their gifts. And maybe…just maybe…Tim would finally accept him as more than a friend.

* * *

That moment came sooner than expected. That very afternoon, in fact.

Kon was in Tim's office, 'assisting' her with a conference call to their office in California. After it was over, Tim sighed and slumped back in her chair, rubbing her forehead, futilely trying to stave off a headache. "Every year I swear that I'm going to get a head start on the Christmas rush, and every year the rush gets bigger," she groaned.

Striving for diplomacy – since he was her assistant, he was **also** dealing with the rush, Kon said, "The holidays can be a stressful time."

Tim crossed her arms on her desk and buried her face in her hands. "It wouldn't be so bad if all the vice presidents didn't keep turning to me with their problems," she mumbled into her desk. "It's like Christmas rolls around and all of a sudden they forget how to do their jobs."

Sympathizing with his boss' plight, since it was similar to his own, Kon suggested, "Maybe you should take some time off. Get away from the office and they'll have to deal with the problems themselves."

Sitting up, Tim smiled at him tiredly. "Then they'd start calling me at home."

"Then get out of a town. Go on vacation over Christmas." Kon started calculating how such a trip would factor into his plans to give Tim and Robin their Christmas presents, and wondered if he should give them their gifts that afternoon, or maybe the next morning, when he picked them up for work.

Tim looked at him, bewildered. "Where?"

At a loss for why Tim seemed to have a problem with the concept, Kon said, "Anywhere." Tahiti, Cancun, or maybe someplace more family-oriented like Galveston or Martha's Vineyard. Not a theme-park; they were terrible over the holidays.

"I meant, where could I go that work couldn't reach me?" Tim clarified. "I have to leave a contact number, so most people would call there; where could I go that would be out of the way enough that no one would bother me?"

It hit Kon, suddenly, how he could give Timmie and Robin their Christmas presents – and a joint one, thus solving Tim's problem. "Come with me to Kansas," Kon said impulsively.

Tim blinked at him owlishly. "What?" she asked, disbelief dripping from the word, one eyebrow twitching upward.

Abashed, Kon, scrubbed a hand through his hair and tried to explain. "I go to visit my grandparents every year." The more he thought about it, the more the idea of having Timmie and Robin with him for the holidays appealed to him.

Tim frowned. "But what about…" Tim seemed caught between confusion and consternation as she strove for diplomacy. "I mean, um, I know you don't…get along with your father…"

Kon shrugged. "Yeah, but Clark and Lois alternate holidays with their families," he told her. "Ma and Pa got Thanksgiving this year, so they're spending Christmas with Lois' parents." Generally he did the reverse with his mother's family, so he didn't have to deal with Clark and Lois during any of the holidays.

"Oh." Tim seemed to consider his proposition for a minute, then said, "I…I wouldn't want to impose."

Sensing that she only needed a reason to give in, Kon was thankful that he already had several at hand. "Ma and Pa are of the opinion that 'the more the merrier.' They'd be glad to have you, honest." In the past, he'd taken college friends and colleagues to visit them, and they'd all been welcomed with open arms.

"I don't know…" Timmie said slowly. The idea obviously appealed to her, but it was equally as clear that she was reluctant to accept.

"C'mon," Kon cajoled with a grin. "Haven't you always wanted to have a real country Christmas, complete with snow?"

Timmie wavered; she **had** wanted that very same thing as a child. Something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, or, considering her childhood, the Charlie Brown Christmas special.

"We chop down our own tree, and decorate it with popcorn strings and cranberry chains," Kon continued, voice taking on a singsong tone. "We have homemade apple cider and gingerbread after we build snowmen and a snow fort and have snowball fights."

"You do all that every year?" Tim asked, slightly in awe.

"Well, the snowball fights and forts are saved for occasions with kids," Kon admitted, scrubbing a hand through his hair bashfully, because he **loved** those, "but I just know that Robin'll love them." She appeared to be more tempted by that, the thought of the vacation being for Robin instead of herself. "There's also ice skating down at the lake, with hot chocolate and chestnuts, and sleigh rides through town." He'd yet to meet a little girl that wasn't fascinated by horses.

Well, except for the ones that were allergic.

Timmie nibbled on her lower lip, stealing a glance now and then at Kon's wide grin. "Sleigh rides, huh?" She and Bernard had gone to see _Cats_ once, in New York City. They'd spent the whole day before the play wandering around the city, and had ended their afternoon with a carriage ride through Central Park.

It had been one of the most magical nights of her life.

"With a real sleigh, pulled by real horses," Kon confirmed.

Sending Kon a sideways look, Timmie raised an eyebrow. "Homemade apple cider and gingerbread men?" she asked speculatively.

"Ma has us make the gingerbread in the morning before we go out to build snowmen. By the time we're all half-frozen, the gingerbread is just coming out of the oven. Piping hot and fresh…" Kon said, coaxing her with mental images.

Finding herself practically salivating over the thought of fresh, hot gingerbread – and knowing that Robin **would** love a chance to play in the snow, never mind herself – Timmie felt her resolve falter, and finally give out. "Okay," she caved. "You've convinced me."

* * *

The weeks before Christmas were a whirlwind of activity, as Tim and Kon finalized over half a dozen contracts, drew up twice as many more, and packed for two weeks in Smallville, Kansas.

On their last day at work, Kon's friend and ex-roommate Bart dropped by for a little while, bringing presents with him.

"Hey, Kon," Bart greeted, the bell on the end of his Santa stocking cap jingling merrily as he tromped down the hall in his dusty engineer boots. He looked nothing so much like an elf who worked construction. Which, well…he kind of was. Bart loved nothing better than a good party, and spreading Christmas cheer was kind of his gig.

He even played Santa for the orphans at the New Hope Home.

"Bart, good to see you, man," Kon said, grinning and pulling him in for a long hug, before giving him a sound clap on the back. They hadn't had much of a chance to see each other since he'd moved out of Bart's Metropolis apartment and into his own in Gotham.

"Good to see you too," Bart returned.

"What brings you by?" Kon, leaning back against his desk.

Bart shrugged. "Since you're headed out of town tomorrow, like usual, I thought I'd drop by and give you your presents." He held out a plastic grocery bag with a few messily-wrapped (in the Sunday comics) items inside.

"And finally see my office, huh?" Kon kidded, gesturing around the small half-enclosed 'cubicle' he called his home away from home.

A bland expression of mild astonishment pasted on his face, Bart asked, "What office? All I see's a desk, Mr. Nanny."

Punching Bart on the arm, Kon said, "You only wish you worked in such a cool place." He had a desk **with** a computer, a lamp, and a printer/fax/copier combo, plus several file cabinets and a bulletin board covered with meeting notes, Dilbert cartoons, and Robin's artwork.

"I got no problem finding 'cool' places – not with my line of work." Bart shivered theatrically. "I've had to wear every single scarf and sweater your grandmother ever knitted me just to keep from getting frostbite up on those steel girders." Despite his complaining, Bart loved his job. Except when he didn't.

"Uh-huh. I feel for you, Bart." Rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, Kon said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "This is the world's smallest violin playing _My Heart Bleeds For You_." At his answering snort, he turned around to fish out Bart's present from his desk. "Merry Christmas, bud." He then traded his red package for the green one in Bart's hands.

Rolling his eyes, Bart said, "Merry Christmas, Kon."

Before either of them could even start peeling the tape away, a small voice interrupted them. "Who's that?" Robin asked, tugging on Kon's suit jacket.

Kon blinked down at his charge. Robin was supposed to be downstairs in the daycare; apparently, her mother had gone to get her early. "Uh…this is my friend Bart, pumpkin."

Bart snickered at the nickname, even as Robin turned to him. "Hi, Mister Bart," she said, offering him a sweet smile.

Sobering at this show of innocence and manners, Bart knelt down and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, pumpkin."

Robin shook his hand, but sniffed in disdain. "My name is Robin Bernadette Drake; **you** may call me Robin," she stated imperiously. "Only Kon gets ta call me pumpkin."

Kon felt a perverse sort of a pleasure rush through him as he heard that.

Nodding solemnly, Bart said, struggling to hold back a laugh, "I'll remember that."

"You do that," Robin said with the same air of arrogance that her mother employed in board meetings. Then her sharp green eyes narrowed. "Why're you here, anyway?"

"Bart dropped by to give me my Christmas present," Kon told her.

Robin perked up at that information. "Is there anything for me?" she asked with the cheeky avarice that only the very young could employ without seeming (overly) selfish.

Luckily, Kon had learned how to deal with her. "I'm going to give you your present on Christmas, pumpkin." He leaned down and tapped her on the nose. "Just like your mother and Santa Claus."

Robin let out a gusty sigh worthy of a typhoon. "Aw, poo. I don't wanna haveta wait. Christmas is ev'rywhere, 'cept there are no presents for me."

"I know you don't want to, but you have to," Kon said firmly. It was best that Robin learned early on that she couldn't always get her way. It would cut down on temper tantrums later.

At least, that's what his mother had done with him.

Robin made a show of sulking for a few minutes, until her attention was diverted by the elevator lights blinking on. When the doers opened, her eyes lit up like the lights, and she grinned. "Auntie Darla!" Robin crowed, rushing towards the elevator where the woman was just disembarking. The singer had a giant sparkly gift bag overflowing with presents that she set down on the floor just before she leaned down to catch Robin as the little girl threw herself into her arms.

"Hey there, chica; Merry Christmas," Darla said, squeezing her goddaughter tight. Pulling back, she released Robin from her arms and, tucking a stray curl of blonde hair behind Robin's ear, asked, "You been a good girl this year?"

Robin nodded emphatically. "Uh-huh. I didn't not even put a frog in Miss Greta's desk on her birfday."

Biting her lip to hold back her laughter, Darla turned mirthful eyes towards Kon as she rose to her feet. "And has Kon's desk remained amphibian-free?" she asked, picking up her sack of gifts and taking Robin's hand with the other.

Confused, Robin asked as they walked back towards the two men, "What's a anfibiam?"

"An amphibian is an animal that can live on both water and land," Bart told her as the two females came to a stop before them. "Like frogs. And toads, and newts, and salamanders."

Robin blinked up at them. "Oh." She titled her head to the side as if considering and finally said, "No, I didn't put any anfibiams in Kon's desk."

Kon cleared his throat, crossing his arms sternly over his chest. He remembered a certain incident with one of the plastic toys she'd received on her trick-or-treating trip.

Robin ducked her head bashfully. "The spider was only rubber! An' they aren't anfibiams…are they?" She peaked out from behind her blonde bangs woefully.

Bart snickered.

"No, spiders are arachnids," Kon told her, giving in to The Pout. "That means they have eight legs, unlike insects, which have six."

Robin's lips turned down in a frown. "What about caterpillars?"

"Uh…" Kon **knew** they were insects, but they had so many legs… "They turn into butterflies, which have six legs."

"Oh. Okay," Robin said, accepting that with the ease of a child. She then turned back to Darla. "So, since I've been so good, c'n I please please please have one of my presents earlier? Pleeeeease?"

"She's clearly learned the value of the 'magic word,' hasn't she?" Bart whispered to him.

"Shh," Kon scolded him. "She'll hear you. Robin has ears like a bat."

"Sorry, sweetpea," Darla said to her goddaughter. "You've been real good this year, but I'm giving these to your mother."

"They're all for her?" Robin asked, appearing more surprised than disappointed – though the disappointment was there. She was a good kid, though, and loved her mother enough to be happy with the idea of her getting so many presents.

Kon told himself it wasn't his place to be so proud of her, but that didn't keep him from feeling it.

Darla chuckled. "No, sweetpea, they aren't; but I'm giving them to her so she can take them down to Kansas with you."

"So I c'n open 'em on Christmas morning, right?" Robin asked, sounding a bit exasperated with the familiar restriction, but also pleased with her future bounty.

"That's right," Darla agreed, and their conversation descended into more of Robin's pleading (with outlandish offers of hoarded Halloween candy, fridge art, and, of all things, foot rubs) and Darla's denials.

Bart blinked in confusion at the exchange, and then dragged Kon away from the two conversing females. "They're going with you to the farm?" he hissed, once they were out of hearing range.

"Uh…yeah?" Kon asked, confused as to why Bart seemed to upset.

Waving his arms in the air like he just didn't care that he could communicate more effectively than words, Bart finally managed to sputter out, "And you don't think that's something you should've mentioned?"

Kon eyed his friend, wondering about how prolonged exposure to blowtorches could affect one's sanity. "Bart, I've taken you home for the holidays before. You, Roxy, your grandparents, your cousin Wally and his wife, that girl you dated for a while, what's-er-name, Cissie, and her friend Anita…"

"But never any of your girlfriends!" Bart said in a hushed whisper.

Kon flushed. No, he hadn't taken any of his girlfriends 'home to meet the (grand)parents.' He hadn't had a chance with Tana, and he hadn't gotten serious enough with any of the others. "Timmie isn't my girlfriend," he said reflexively.

"Not for lack of trying on your part, I'm sure," Bart said, shooting his verbal barb with uncanny accuracy. He'd also noticed Kon's use of a nickname – a diminutive and cutesy nickname – for his **boss**.

Shrugging diffidently, Kon breathed a sigh of relief when Robin ended her near-monologue with Darla and ran up to him. "Kon, c'n I ask you somethin'?"

"Sure, pumpkin," Kon said, kneeling down to be on eye-level with her.

"Did Mister Bart come by to give you your Christmas present?"

Kon smiled at her. "Yes, he did."

"An' you're gonna open it now?" Robin asked sharply, little nose wiggling in vexation as he nodded.

"Uh…yeah," Kon confirmed, fumbling for an excuse that she would buy. "But only 'cause we're not gonna be together over Christmas. He's opening my gift to him, as well."

"Well, I think I should get to open somethin', too." Robin punctuated her statement with a firm nod of her head. "It's only **faaaair**," she said, drawing the last word out.

"I don't get to open anything," Darla pointed out, exchanging an amused smile with Bart.

Robin pouted, then brightened. "Kon could give you his present!"

Kon blinked. "Er…yeah… I suppose I could," he admitted. He hadn't intended to get Darla anything, since she was more of an acquaintance, but he had gotten her a little something. Well, not an actual present, per se, it was more of a…trinket.

Actually, it was a gift-with-purchase.

Though why they gave him a free sample of lady's perfume with his usual cologne – even if they were both made by the same company – Kon was still puzzled over. Still, it was in a nice little red and gold box, already 'wrapped' for Christmas, and he did currently have it in his desk.

The three adults all exchanged looks, and finally Darla sighed, a mischievous twinkle in her. "Only if the present you open isn't from me – or Kon." At Bart's frozen look of shock, she continued, "We already promised your mother not to spoil you before Christmas."

Robin turned expectantly to Bart, who swallowed and pulled at his scarf, as if it was tightening around his throat. "Um…yeah…" He stilled again, his panicked eyes clearly giving away his frantic thoughts of, 'Why me? Oh, God, why, oh, why me?'

After a moment, however, he grinned, and Kon could practically see the light bulb go off over his head. "Sure!" Bart chirped to Robin. "You can, uh, open my gift…to you," he tacked on in an obvious afterthought.

Thankfully, Robin didn't notice.

Kon was intrigued, and watched closely as Bart fished a square box wrapped in Garfield comic strips out of the bag he'd brought. He handed it with great reverence to Robin, who squealed excitedly, and gave Bart a great big hug.

Robin made an abortive move towards the tape, then paused, turned her eyes towards her adult audience. "Everybody has ta have a present before I – we – c'n open 'em," she said. She was practically vibrating the curiosity to see what was inside 'her' package, but Timmie had clearly taught her manners.

That surge of pride welled up inside Kon again, and he quickly squished it down, instead turning his attention to fishing out Darla's present and handing it to her, before picking up Bart's present to him. Bart retrieved his own gift, and the adults all looked at each other before Kon turned to Robin. "Uh…who goes first?"

Robin sighed. "Either alfabetikal by first name, or youngest ta oldest." It was clear which one she would prefer.

It was also clear to Kon that either way would have normally started with Robin, 'normally' being when it was only her and her mother.

"You go first," Bart said magnanimously, and once Robin tore into her gift, the others started slowly removing the packaging from theirs.

What there was of it. Darla only needed to open the box. She pulled the top off and sniffed at the _Tommy Girl_, nodding judiciously. "Nice," she decided.

Kon smiled weakly at her, mumbled a, "You're welcome," and opened his box from Bart. He'd gotten a…well, he didn't know quite what it was supposed to be, but Bart **really** liked his blowtorch, and made lots of art deco sculpture out of pieces of metal he found lying around the construction sights he worked. This one was about the size of a melon, sort of roundish, and pewter in color, with bits of blue and gray glass melted in interesting patterns around it.

Kon thought he'd use it as a paperweight, since it didn't seem to have any sharp edges.

Bart had gotten a book from Kon; the collector's edition of _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_, his favorite series. "Cool…" Bart enthused.

Kon quirked a grin at his friend. "Yeah, same here, man," he replied, holding up his 'paper weight.'

Bart's smile was almost blinding, but not bright enough to distract Kon from Timmie's entrance, or rather, exit, from her office. She took one look at the group of people surrounding by bits and pieces of wrapping paper, tilted one eyebrow up like Mr. Spock, and said, "Someone forget to tell me about the party?"

"Mama!" Robin squealed, running over to hug her mother. "Look what Mister Bart gave me!" She held out her 'gift' from Bart; it actuality had been purchased as a toy for Kon's cats. It was a blue plastic ball with a striped tail attached to it. When batteries were put inside, it would roll around on the floor by itself, making a great plaything for small animals.

Or young children, perhaps.

Tim obviously knew what it was, and gave Bart an amused look. "It's very nice, sweetpea," she said. "We'll have to get some batteries so you can play with it."

"Batt'ries?" Robin asked, frowning.

"It moves, pumpkin," Kon told her. "Vibrates across the floor."

Eyes going round with pleased surprise, Robin said, "Wow…"

Tim went back into her office to fish some batteries out of her desk. Kon went with her, ostensibly for no reason at all, but really because he wanted to give her a present, since she'd missed out.

Even when he pressed her back against the wall so the molding dug into her back, the moans Timmie made into his mouth were more of arousal than discomfort.

Luckily, no one noticed how long they were gone, since Bart and Darla had gotten into some sort of argument/flirting conversation that Robin was watching with wide-eyed wonder, laughing at them behind her hand.

* * *

Darla and Bart finally stopped fighting long enough to hug their respective friends goodbye – Robin got hugged by both, and Darla gave out cheek-kisses all around – and leave. Then it was only a matter of locking up, heading to Tim's house (swinging by Kon's apartment on the way) and driving to the airport. They left Tim's Jeep in long-term parking and headed down the miles and miles of corridor towards their gate.

Robin was as excited about their trip to Kansas as she'd ever been. Most of the Drake duo's vacations had been to various theme parks, and the idea of spending Christmas on a farm, with the added bonus of snow, was a novel change.

She was so hyper the day they flew to Kansas, that Timmie breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief when her daughter dropped off to sleep after a half hour of oohing and aahing over seeing the world from the air. They'd flown before, but Robin had been too young to really remember it.

Kon chuckled quietly from his aisle seat. "Glad the flight's only four hours, aren't you?" He knew as well as she did that Robin rarely napped for more than two and a half hours at a time.

Tim's mouth quirked up in a little half-grin. "You know it," she agreed.

* * *

Robin was just rousing when they landed in Kansas City, and once they'd disembarked and gathered their luggage, Kon led them out front to the parking lots.

Timmie's eyes widened theatrically as they passed the long-term parking. "Don't tell me you leave a car here?"

Kon choked on a chuckle. "Not hardly. But Ma said she'd be waiting for us right about…here!" A smile broke over his face once he saw the beat up blue pick-up truck idling in the 'road' between the long-term and short-term parking lots.

Introductions were quickly made, and the chilly New Yorkers bundled into the cab of the truck. Kon situated their luggage in the cab of the truck, before squeezing into the front seat. With Robin on Timmie's lap, there was just enough room for the four of them.

"Sorry you two don't get to meet Jonathan yet, but I didn't think there'd be room for all of us in this old thing," Martha Kent said with a friendly chuckle as she pulled the truck out onto the road. It was an 'old thing' but it was in good condition.

And, thankfully, the heater worked like new. Kansas was over five hundred miles **south**-west of Gotham and the rest of the Eastern seaboard; Timmie had no idea why it was so much colder in Smallville.

"That's quite all right, Mrs. Kent," Timmie said politely. "I appreciate you coming to pick us up."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, dear. And Martha, you call Martha," she chided, giving her a wink. "Or 'Ma.' Some days, it seems like I'm everybody's mother."

Smiling down at the wide-eyed bundle of joy in her lap, craning her neck to look out at the window at passing wheat fields, Timmie said, "Oh, believe me, I know the feeling."


	5. Home For The Holidays

**Home For The Holidays**

* * *

The Kent Farm was a rambling, ramshackle old house painted in shades of brown and red. It stood in the midst of a barren field covered with the remnants of three-day-old snow, a few haystacks scattered here and there.

The drive from the airport had taken over an hour, even on near-empty roads, and by the time they reached 'home' Robin had fallen asleep. She was completely conked out, snoring gently, and didn't even awaken when Tim carried her inside. Once they had been bundled inside by Martha and Jonathan – who, despite his advanced age, proved capable of carrying over half of their baggage – introductions were made, and it was just as quickly decided that, being past ten in the evening, after a long and tiring day, they should go to bed and get better acquainted over dinner.

Timmie found herself and Robin were to share the guestroom, a homey-looking space decorated in blue-flowered chintz, with a full-sized bed that would easily fit the both of them. After Timmie got Robin and herself into their nightclothes, she tucked her underneath the covers, wished her hosts goodnight, and fell exhaustedly into bed herself.

Her sleep that night wasn't full of visions of sugar plums, but rather the knowledge that she and Kon were once again under the same roof.

It was one of the best night's sleep Tim had had in weeks.

* * *

The next morning, Robin bounded down the stairs in her Care Bears nightshirt, carrying her stuffed cat by the tail. Timmie plodded tiredly after her, wearing a sky-blue bathrobe and slippers. She yawned and stretched as she reached the living room, smiling sleepily in the predawn light from the front porch. "Morning," she greeted Kon – for the both of them, since Robin already had her mouth full of French toast dripping with syrup.

Kon grinned. "Morning. Do you want powdered sugar, honey, syrup, chocolate chips, or whipped cream and strawberries on yours?"

Robin's eyes widened at the litany of different toppings she could have had, had she not just pounced upon the plate placed in front of her, and Tim hid her own grin. "Oh, a little of everything sounds good, but I think I'll start with the strawberries and cream."

Kon nodded, a mock thoughtful expression on his face. "Sounds good," he said, turning from the stove and fixing them both plates.

"Where are your grandparents?" Tim asked as they both dug into their food, pretending not to notice the wide green eyes staring enviously at them – or, rather, their breakfast.

"Pa's working on the tractor, and Ma's milking the cows," Kon told her between bites of dripping-sweet toast.

"I should have gotten up earlier," Tim said, abashed, thinking that she should be helping her hosts.

Kon snickered. "Believe me, it'll be easier for everyone involved if you **don't** try and help. The trouble I got into when I tried to feed the chickens once…"

"There are chickens?" Tim asked, blinking. "I thought your grandparents only farmed cattle?" She didn't remember seeing anything but cows around, though there had been mention of the neighbors' horses the previous night on the ride from the airport, which had piqued Robin's interest.

Kon flushed as red as the strawberries topping Tim's plate. "They do **now**," he said, and firmly resisted all Timmie's attempts to get him to explain more.

Robin, meanwhile, was ignoring the grown-ups' conversation in favor of plotting. She really wanted some of Kon's chocolate chips. She munched idly on a piece of bacon and stealthily – or so she thought – moved her fork towards a piece of sugar and honey-dusted toast. She might have 'gotten away' with it if the weight of the toast plus toppings hadn't pulled it off her fork to land on the table, chocolate bits scattering across the blue plastic tablecloth.

Grinning disarmingly at her mother and nanny, which had turned to stare at her sternly, Robin offered an, "Oops?" and put on her best, 'Aren't I wunnerful little girl?' smile.

Tim just shook her head at her daughter while Kon forked up the toast and put it on Robin's plate. "I just wiped down the table this morning; it's fine," he dismissed as he mopped up the spilled syrup with his napkin.

Tim offered no complaint, and Robin gleefully cut into her third piece of toast. The chocolate chips were all melty and tasted wonderful over the honey. Though the powdered sugar did stick to her lips, and her chin, and her hands, and…

Robin was glad that she'd gotten to skip her nightly bath, and not just because it was cold. She wondered if the Kents had Mr. Bubbles…

* * *

After the three Gothamites finished their full farm breakfast (and Robin had had her bath), and they'd all gotten dressed, Kon took them on a short tour of the farm. Robin was entranced by the cows, even though they did nothing more than eye the encroaching humans with bovine placidity, swish their tails, and low occasionally.

Robin kept making 'Moo' noises at them, and pouting when they didn't answer back.

By the time they were all half-frozen, Ma and Pa Kent had gone back snide, and Ma was brewing spiced apple cider. They had the warm drink with simple soup and sandwiches, and once Robin had been put down for her nap, the adults talked among themselves. Martha was especially interested in the attention that Kon paid to Tim – or, as he called her, Timmie.

Jonathan, of course, was oblivious to the undercurrents of romance as all men, but he did notice how fond his grandson seemed of Robin. She was a cute little girl, and very well-behaved for her young age. If her hair had been red instead of blonde, she would have looked just like a miniature version of Martha…

That topic of conversation caused Martha to climb up to the attic to bring down Clark's baby book, and a photo album full of Conner's pictures. Timmie had her own arsenal full of snapshots in her purse, and the two women chattered over the 'cute' and 'darling' and 'precious' children for almost an hour while their respective men watched them indulgently and absently listened to the news on the old radio, as snowflakes whirled passed the window.

When Robin awoke from her nap, and saw the snow, she came thundering down the stairs, babbling about going to out to play in it.

There was no way that they would stay inside. So all five of them set out to the nearby snowdrifts. Snowfamilies, snowforts, and snow ball fights inside said forts awaited. Afterwards, they'd hunt down the perfect tree, then tote it back to the farm and start decorating it.

Christmas couldn't get more perfect, of that, Kon was sure.

* * *

**One Week Later**

* * *

"Christmas is tomorrow," Kon said as he peeled potatoes for supper. He'd hauled an empty wastebasket next to the kitchen table to throw the scraps in, planning to dump them out into the compost heap after he finished.

Timmie looked amused as she shelled peas into a bowl on the kitchen table. The pods also went into the wastebasket. "Yes."

"And Robin's birthday is soon after, right?"

Tim nodded. "The ninth of January." She smiled a bit in reminiscence, fearing that it looked a bit goofy, but not caring enough to stop. "She's going to be four."

"Well, I was thinking about getting Robin something for her birthday," Kon said.

"That's nice; I'm sure she'll be pleased." Rolling her eyes, Tim added, "Not that she **needs** more presents." Half of the ones they'd hauled down to Kansas with them were for her daughter.

Kon chuckled. "Yes, well, I wanted to talk to you about it."

"You need ideas?" Tim asked, confused. She seemed to recall Kon had brought at least five gifts for Robin.

"No, actually, I have one, but I wanted to get your approval for it."

Eyes narrowing in thought, Tim said, "If it's about a computer, she can use my old one for a few more years. It's not like she does anything but play games on it, anyway."

"No, nothing like that. I was just… One of the barn cats gave birth a few months ago," Kon said, laying down his potato peeler and turning to Tim. "The kittens are going to be weaned by next week, and I was thinking of giving Robin one of them."

Timmie blinked. "A kitten." She frowned slightly, hands falling to rest in the bowl of pea pods.

"Yeah, because I saw how much she loves that stuffed one she has. You know, the one that kinda looks like a monkey?" It was black and white, had a long torso, and even longer tail, and the ears were almost on the side of the head instead of the top, but it was quite clearly **supposed** to be a cat. And Robin simply adored the stuffing out of it.

Literally. He'd watched as Timmie put cotton batting inside a tear on its tummy and sewed it back up.

"I know the one," Tim agreed with a wry smile, cheeks pink. "It was my first and only try at sewing her a toy."

Kon blinked, then said, voice slightly strangled, "It's cute," because it was, and he wasn't quite sure how to make it clear that the fact the cat looked like a monkey wasn't an insult.

Thankfully Tim didn't seem offended. "I'm not sure about a kitten, though." She frowned as she pondered, "For one thing, how would we get it home?"

Kon had already given his proposition a great deal of thought, so he had a ready answer. "The airline allows pets to travel, as long as you inform them in advance. I figured if we do a little slight of hand I can call Bart once we get back to Gotham and he can pick the cat up and hold onto it for us until Robin's birthday."

Tim chewed pensively on her lower lip. "I don't know…I'm not sure we could take care of a cat. I have to work so much, and Robin will start pre-school next year."

"I leave my cats home most of the day, and they're fine as long as I spend a few hours a week with them," Kon informed her.

Tim blinked. "You have cats? Really?" At Kon's nod, she asked, "Who's watching them while we're here?"

"Two, they're Siamese cats," Kon told her. He especially liked Siamese cats because, while they weren't necessarily more affectionate than other cats (in fact, Timmie reminded him quite a bit of them because of her occasionally arrogant and sarcastic attitude), they did 'talk' quite a bit, making Kon feel less lonely in his empty apartment. "And Bart is looking out for them." That was mostly the reason he'd been reluctant to stay with Bart for so long; Bart liked his cats, but they had been rather an imposition in his one-bedroom apartment.

Tim mulled that information over as they two of them finished up their dinner preparations. It was only once the peas were steaming and the potatoes were mashed and boiling that Tim said, "Okay. But…please make sure it's a girl, all right? I don't want it trying to mark territory."

"No problem," Kon assured her. He most definitely did not tell Timmie that he thought of her and Robin as 'his' territory already. "Once we get back, I'll give you my vet's number so you can arrange to have her spayed," he added.

Lips pursing, Tim thought of the number of stray cats that seemed to congregate **everywhere**, even in her quiet neighborhood, and said, "Probably a good idea."

One cat was enough for her little girl. Though a part of Timothea Drake couldn't help but think that she would like more than one little girl, and maybe a little boy…

* * *

Kon awoke much too early on Christmas morning to see a pair of wide green eyes staring into his own.

It was only experience with the endless succession of Kent housecats – all of which had at one point decided to wake him in such a manner – that enabled him to keep his shout of surprise internal. "Robin?" he squeaked as his eyes adjusted to the sliver of moonlight from his window.

"Uh-huh."

Blinking sleep-filled eyes, Kon bit back a groan when he saw that not only was it still dark outside, but the clock read 2:34. "It's too early to get up, Robin," he mumbled.

"But Santa came, right?" Robin asked in a hushed whisper.

"Well, probably – he might not have gotten to us yet," Kon told her, groggy mind still able to come up with the 'fact' that Santa went everywhere during Christmas Eve night, so some people had to be first, and some last. "But even if he did, we can't go downstairs yet."

Robin pouted. "Why not?"

"Because…um…" Kon thought fast, and then hit upon something he knew would work. "Well, you want your mom to be there when you open your presents, right?"

Giving him a look that questioned his intelligence, Robin said, "A'course."

"Well, your mother has only gotten a few hours of sleep so far tonight, and she needs quite a few more if she's going to be awake to watch you open your presents." Seeing the unhappy lines etched on Robin's face, Kon added, "And I think you need some more sleep, too, or else you won't be awake enough to play with your presents."

Robin wrinkled her nose, but didn't protest his statement. "Mama's room is cold," she complained.

Kon hid a smile. "Well, crawl in with me, then."

"Okay!" Robin said excitedly, diving under the covers. All she had been waiting for was permission, it seemed.

"'Night, Kon."

"Goodnight, Robin."

* * *

Despite the anticipation to which it had been looked forward, Christmas morning went by in a blur of wrapping paper, gifts, homemade cinnamon buns and hot chocolate. Robin, having woken up more than just the once the previous night, fell asleep watching the Snoopy Christmas special, arms cuddled around her old stuffed cat and her new stuffed pumpkin (that Kon had carefully hoarded ever since Halloween).

Robin had been the center of attention that morning, receiving many presents from everyone. From her mother, she'd gotten the usual gifts of learn-to-read books and educational toys, plus a few dolls. Kon had given her the stuffed pumpkin, some modeling clay in bright neon colors, and a kit for making plastic flowers.

Tim's parents had done the typical grandparent spoilage and sent a card revealing that, while Tim and Robin were out of town, they were having a miniature playground installed in Tim's backyard; a swing set, a slide, and a jungle gym. (Kon was thankful Robin managed to keep her squeals of happiness below the sound barrier.) She'd gotten a record-and-play microphone 'to practice her singing' from her Aunt Darla. Tim's maternal uncle, Ted Kord – "He owns the recording department outright," Tim told him, "and he's an amateur entomologist." – and his life-partner Michael Carter, had sent Robin a stuffed blue bug-type critter with googly eyes and a butterfly coloring book.

Ma and Pa Kent, upon learning that they'd be hosting an almost-four-year-old, had knitted her a matching hat and scarf in rainbow colors, and carved her a toy cat with movable limbs, respectively. She had adored all of her presents, putting on her new hat and scarf over her pajamas and proceeding to tire herself out playing with her two 'kitties.'

Martha had also been thrilled with her new cookbook (a gift from Tim) and her new paints (Kon) and other art supplies (Jonathan). Jonathan enjoyed Tim's gift of a miniature herb garden and the iPod with his favorite big band tunes that Kon had spent several hours tracking down. He had also immediately put on the blue and green sweater his wife had knitted him.

Kon had gotten Timmie a Swiss Army knife with a special feature: it had an attached hard drive of over a gigabyte in size. Considering that she was practically attached at the mouse to her computer, Kon thought she would get a lot of use out of it.

Tim smiled and hugged him, and that was better than her gift to him. She'd discovered his love of video games, and had used her connections to get him a copy of the newest version of Halo. Kon couldn't wait to get back to Gotham so he could try it.

It was tradition that immediate family got new sweaters every year, and all guests. Tim's was in red and black stripes, Kon's in a blue and black checkerboard pattern, and Robin's was overlarge ("With room to grow into," Ma had said) in a black and white geometric-pattern that would coordinate well with her hat and scarf.

After Robin finished her impromptu nap, they had a light lunch of homemade vegetable soup and got bundled up for the chilly weather outside. Robin kept pestering Kon about where they were going, but he kept telling her to wait.

When Timmie started pouting at him as well, he nearly found himself helpless to resist, but luckily, the town square was only a few miles away by truck. The Smallville city council arranged sleigh rides on Christmas day, either around town or to the lake, where townspeople could rent ice skates and drink hot chocolate and apple cider. The next sleigh was schedule to go for a tour around town in ten minutes, so, while they waited in the chill winter air for the lake-sleigh, Ma and Pa took Robin over and introduced her to the horses.

Kon produced a few lumps of sugar for expressly such a purpose and taught her how to feed them by keeping her mittened hand flat.

By the time the friendly bay mare had finished off her treat, the town-to-pond sleigh had arrived back, and the Kent and Drake families piled in with Nell Potter, her visiting niece Lana, and Lana's husband Pete.

Kon had always felt a little awkward around Lana, since she'd been Clark's girlfriend before he'd started dating his mother. Thankfully, she and Pete were expecting their first child, and she spent the trip asking questions of Timmie about what she could expect during the last five months of her pregnancy.

Kon learned **way** more about swollen feet and itching nipples than he'd ever wanted to know. He found himself extremely glad that Robin had insisted on wearing her Pokémon earmuffs; they would prevent her from hearing her mother's conversation and asking questions about what breast pumps were.

If she heard anyway, Kon would officially declare those explanations to be Timmie's to answer, and not part of his job.

The rest of the day passed happily, with a sleigh ride that afternoon towards the town lake for ice skating. Robin was rather wobbly on her rented skates at first, but she held onto Tim and Kon's hands, and between them she was soon racing around the ice with abandon, giggling all the while.

It was a great day.

* * *

**One Week Later**

* * *

Despite the normal post-holiday let-down feeling that typically followed Christmas day, Kon, Tim and Robin all had oodles of fun in Smallville. So much so that even Timmie was reluctant to go back to work, and, on New Year's Eve, found herself wishing that time would stop, and she could enjoy this peacefulness just a little whole longer.

It didn't, of course, but she had until the next morning at nine before they had to leave for the airport. One more night… Robin had begged to be allowed to stay up to watch the party in New York City. Tim had reluctantly said yes, knowing that Robin would be conked out by ten-thirty.

Robin had actually made it until ten forty-two before her eyes had closed for the final time, and was currently snuggled up in bed. Tim, however, was restless, so she decided to make the most of her unusual vigor by curling up on the chair in the den to read the latest Stephen King novel. A warm fire to curl up in front of, cozy cushions and an afghan to curl **in**, a scary book to read…the perfect way to wile away the night while waiting for the Ball to drop.

Three chapters into her book, Tim was absorbed in trying to figure out who the killer was, when the sound of something scraping across the floor drew her attention. She started, and then scolded herself for being scared; aliens, mutants, and things that went bump in the night didn't **exist** in the real world.

Peaking over the edge of the cough, Tim saw Kon standing in the doorway, toeing the ground. "Mm?"

"Hi," Kon said, a weak smile on his face.

Tim eyed him in bemusement. "Hi." She resigned herself to putting down her book until Kon spit out whatever was on his mind.

Kon cleared his throat, and once he was sure he had Tim's attention, smiled a little sheepishly. "So…um, I got you another present."

Tim blinked. "Oh?"

Kon correctly interpreted her response as a question about why he'd waited. "Well, you see, you can't really receive a present like this during the day…"

Tim tilted her head to the side quizzically, her eyes narrowing in on Kon's. "Why is that?"

"I, uh…I think it would be better if I showed you." Kon motioned towards the door. Tim sighed, and untangled herself from her nest of covers, heading out into the cold winter's night, Kon following closely behind her as she walked outside onto the porch. He then led her towards the barn and up the stairs to the loft, where he'd set up Clark's old telescope.

"Here, sit here," Kon said, gesturing towards a hay bale he'd lugged up there specifically for that purpose.

"Okay," Tim said, doing so. When almost a minute had passed in tense silence, Tim curled her hands over the edge of the hay bale and looked up at his fidgeting form. "Now what?"

Kon blushed. Then, gently turning her head towards the telescope, he said, "Now, look."

Bemusedly, Tim did, right eye squinting through the small hole. After a moment, she asked, "What am I looking at?"

"Your star," Kon told her, voice hushed in the chill of the night. "Timothea Ava Drake."

Tim stared at him, then started as her sudden movement jolted her face too hard towards the eye of the telescope. Pulling back, she turned to face Kon, and upon seeing his hopeful expression, could not say a word. "My **what**?" she finally got out.

"Your star," Kon said, more confident now that she hadn't…exploded, or whatever he'd been afraid of. "I wanted to show you it earlier, but what with the snow and all, the night sky was cloudy so you couldn't see it…" Kon said awkwardly, waving one hand around for emphasis.

"No…that's okay…" Tim said faintly. _A star? He…he bought me a star? _There was absolutely no way that Kon could have known… Her father used to take her up on the roof of their townhouse and point out all the constellations when she was Robin's age. From there had hade grown a love of astronomy, and for him to give her her very own star…

It was…more than a romantic gesture. It was…

Timmie was forcibly dragged out of her whirling thoughts by the appearance of a thick white envelope in front of her. Kon was holding it out, only a hint of trepidation in his eyes.

Tim blinked at him. _What the…?_ "What's this?"

"Open it," Kon urged her.

She did so, sliding one silver-tinted nail under the sealed flap, delicately tearing it open. Tim upended the contents out into her hands and paused in surprised, pleasant confusion. "Is this…?" It was a certificate, once written in gilded script on blue and purple paper sprinkled with gold stars.

"It's, um, the stuff that comes with…" Kon wave a hand towards the telescope, the window, and the stars beyond. He picked up the certificate and turned it over. "Here, see, there's a map on the back with the coordinates, and other information about your star. You can see it from right here and I set up the telescope so you could."

"Oh." Timmie felt numb, only capable of monosyllables. She shook it off and looked out the window. "Which one is it?" she asked, examining the coordinates.

Kon peered through the eyepiece of the telescope. "Over on the left, the golden one in the middle of all those bluish ones…" He traded places with Timmie, and after a few moments of looking, found a cluster of bluish stars.

A minute ticked by in silence and Kon grew more tense. "See it?"

Another long pause and then, catching sight of the little gold dot, Tim's face broke out in a wide grin. "Yes… Oh, Kon, it's beautiful…" She turned to Kon and found that, unknown to her, he'd taken a seat beside her on the hay bale. There was scarcely room for the both of them, and she reeled inwardly for a moment at his closeness. "Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome…" Kon smiled. "Happy New Year, Timmie," he murmured, his words barely a puff of breath against her chilled face.

"H-Happy New Year, Kon," Timmie whispered back, even as their heads tilted towards each other, their lips meeting in a soft, yet urgent kiss.

Neither of them heard the occupants of the Kent house counting down to the midnight, so consumed were they by the fire building between them.


	6. Touch And Go

**Touch And Go**

* * *

Once Kon, Tim, and Robin arrived back in Gotham City, things took a turn for the unusual. Tim was outwardly denying the fact that she and Kon had kissed, or the fact that she'd enjoyed it. She also wasn't admitting that it had happened; in fact, she never mentioned it at all. Except for the times when she kissed him. Again.

Timmie knew what they were doing was…different, if not downright weird. She and Kon were…she didn't even really know **what** they were. They were more than friends, but they weren't lovers…

Yet.

Maybe.

Tim wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that she…she wanted…she didn't want to stop kissing Kon. But she wasn't entirely sure about moving forward, going beyond the occasional – and quickly becoming less so – kiss. Even if there was some part of her that wanted to claim him for her own.

As he had claimed a part of her heart.

* * *

The next few days passed in a quiet sort of contentment, only broken the few times when Tim dared to reach out to Kon and kiss him.

Sometimes, when things slowed down, they'd find themselves gravitating towards each other, like Pluto and its moon, locked in a synchronistic orbit. Time seemed to stop, but only for as long as it would take for their hands to join; just long enough for lips to touch ever-so-slightly. But after those timeless moments had ended… It wasn't as if they'd never happened, but they were never mentioned.

Kon found himself wondering if he and Timmie would ever really start…dating, for lack of a better word. It almost seemed as if Tim had chosen him for some sort of experiment – that he was 'safe' for her to 'practice' on, while slowly trying to reintroduce romance back into her life.

Then she'd look at him across the room…or laugh at the silly games he and Robin played…or corner him after a meeting and kiss him a little deeper, hold him a little longer than she had before…and Kon would find himself unable to believe that, even if she didn't love him, what she felt for him wasn't stronger than friendship.

Kon, for all that he…loved…being with Timmie…just wished that she'd **acknowledge** whatever this…**thing** was between them. He didn't just want to be able to kiss her whenever he wanted, or to be able to be with her, romantically…he wanted the right to call her his.

Like he was already hers.

* * *

Kon opened the door to Timmie's office with one hand, the other holding the Anselmo file. He looked over at his boss's desk and grinned at what he saw. She was frowning at her computer monitor, a pencil gripped between her teeth as she typed in rapid-fire bursts on the keyboard. She stopped for a moment, and, without removing her gaze from the screen, took the pencil from her mouth and tapped the eraser end against her desk, her mouth pursed in thought. Quickly scribbling some calculations on a nearby pad of paper, she growled under her breath at the answer. Tucking the pencil into her hair above one ear, she turned back to her computer and rested her fingers on the keys. Timothea stared blankly at the information in front of her for a few seconds, and then began typing again.

"Hard at work?" Kon asked, wondering if he could get away with offering to massage her shoulders.

Timmie gave a grunt in acknowledgment, typing never faltering in speed.

He might, but only if he could get her to stop working for long enough to unknot those muscles. "I've got the Anselmo's final contract here, with all the research you asked for," he said, laying the papers on her desk to the side.

Nodding, Timmie continued typing for a minute, then finally sat back with a relieved sigh once she finished. "Good. That means I might actually get out of here before tomorrow morning." They'd only been back at work for a day, and already she'd been inundated with paperwork.

Kon snorted.

Tim rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair with a sigh. "Oh, you think I'm joking, but I'm not," she said, punctuating her point with a jab of her pencil, before she dropped it onto her desk.

Kon perched on the edge of her desk, just because he knew it would drive her crazy for him to smudge the glossy finish. "You're the boss; why don't you delegate some of this stuff to me?"

Timothea eyed him as if he was some new and intriguing specimen of bug; or perhaps just a very interesting stock portfolio. "You're actually asking for more work." Despite being said as a statement, it was still a question.

"If I don't do it, you'll have to," Kon pointed out. "And a certain young lady will be most unhappy not to get to see her mother tonight before she has to go to bed."

Tim smiled ruefully, thinking that she could get used to Kon being so…concerned for her welfare. In addition to the kisses. "Too true."

* * *

**January 9th**

* * *

"Happy birthday dear Robin, happy birthday…toooo…youuuuu…" the trio of mismatched relatives sang to their little girl.

Robin grinned up at them, and then turned wide, eager eyes on the flower-frosted cake in front of her.

"Now, make a wish and blow out your candles," Tim instructed her daughter.

Robin's face screwed up in thought for a moment before she blew out her candles with a harsh puff of breath.

She'd already had a party with her few friends that afternoon at daycare. Strawberry iced cupcakes and blue Kool-Aid (her favorite flavor) as their afternoon snack before their nap. This, celebration, however…this was just for family.

Which, Kon had been pleased to discover, included not only Darla (and Tim's parents via phone), but himself as well.

Tim dished up vanilla bean ice cream to go with the chocolate Darla cut, and after they'd eaten, it was time for presents. Robin's grandparents had added a tire swing to the oak out back, Darla had given her a cardboard 'treasure chest' of dress-up clothes, Tim had gotten her a new Teddy Ruxpin video, and Kon…

Kon had snuck out after he'd eaten his cake and ice cream, and retrieved his present from Tim's bedroom. His plan for getting the kitten to Gotham had worked like a charm, though Bart had complained about having to litter train the kitten.

Once Robin saw her, all her other toys ceased to exist.

The kitten was a calico moggie, a mixture of so many different breeds that she was the equivalent of a feline mutt. She had soft medium-length fur, and her eyes differed in color: one was blue and one was green. She had a kink in her tail, and one foot each was black, grey, white, and reddish orange.

Robin loved her, and promptly named her 'Patches.'

"What did you wish for?" Tim asked her daughter later, as they were cleaning up from the party.

"To always be as happy as I am right now," Robin said, cuddling her kitten close, a wide, happy smile on her face.

Tim couldn't help but return it, and when she turned to Kon, neither could he.

And Robin didn't bother to tell her mother that her **real** wish had been for Kon to be her father. She saw no need to say so when it was clear that Tim was working on it without needing a wish to help her.

* * *

Happiness abounded, but despite how pleasant it was, there were some things that were hard for Timmie to get used to, namely Kon's spur-of-the-moment gestures of affection. They carpooled together to work more often than not, he brought her her morning cup of tea instead of her having to make it herself, and he was always…touching her. And being chivalrous, which Tim had thought no one but Bernard actually practiced in the 21st Century. Holding her hand as they walked, opening doors for her and pulling out her chair had been easy to get used to, but the intense, deep kisses he gave her as hello or a goodbye, and the little gifts he left for her every so often…

It left Timmie feeling like she was being courted, and…while romantic, she still wasn't sure how to feel about that. She'd come to accept the fact that she couldn't seem to keep her lips off of his, but the fact that he reciprocated – **more** than reciprocated – always left her feeling a little off-kilter.

Timmie hadn't felt that dizzy rush of attraction since Bernard. And a part of her felt guilty for feeling it again, while another part scolded herself for being a romantic martyr. Bernard **wouldn't** want her to be alone forever, she knew that.

And while Tim didn't believe that Robin needed a father to grow up right…she thought that maybe she needed, if not a husband, at least a lover, who could be more than a romantic interest; an actual life partner. Someone to stand by her side and be there for her – and Robin.

And Kon…Kon seemed to fit the bill.

In more ways than one.

* * *

**February 14th**

* * *

If Timothea Drake had actually bothered to pay attention to the date as more than a number, she might have been expecting Kon to show up at work with flowers. As it was, it came as a complete surprise to come to the office, drop Robin off at daycare, work for a few hours, and have Kon show up at half past ten with her usual cup of tea.

Only with a bouquet of roses in addition to her drink.

"Uh…" Tim found herself at a loss for words as Kon gently placed the overly large bunch of flowers in her hands. Reflexively, she put her nose to them and sniffed, inhaling their intoxicating scent. She felt something tight loosen inside her and smiled. "They're beautiful," Timmie breathed, looking at the bouquet of roses in full bloom. They were a soft yellow, shading into orange, with pink edges radiating out from the center of the petals, giving them an almost sunburst effect.

Kon grinned as he watched. "They're called Surprise Roses."

"They certainly are…a surprise," she said, unwillingly blushing. She hadn't received flowers in…well, since Bernard.

She still had that scraggly bunch of daisies pressed in her scrapbook.

"Not much of one," Kon said wryly.

She turned uncomprehending eyes on him.

Kon cocked an eyebrow at her. "It's Valentine's Day, Timmie."

Tim blushed. "Oh." She'd forgotten…but at least it explained that little episode last week. Robin had bought a little window box of purple pansies with her pocket money at the grocery store, and then proceeded to hide them in her room with a cutely stern, 'Don't peek!' The ones that had mysteriously appeared at her place at the kitchen table that morning. They'd been watered a bit too much, but her daughter had obviously taken pains to keep the flowers healthy.

"I know you said honeysuckle was your favorite flower, but I couldn't find any," Kon said sheepishly. "And roses are pretty traditional." And he hadn't wanted to bring up any bad – or sad – memories about Bernard.

"I like them," Tim told him. "I've never seen roses like these before." She softly stroked the sunset colored petals, a happy light shining in her blue eyes.

"You need to get out of the city more often, obviously," Kon teased her.

"Like you?" she shot back with a small smile.

Kon's breath caught in his throat. Was she…she was flirting with him. Just a little bit, but… "Yeah, like me. Back when I was still in school, I'd spend the whole summer on my grandparents' farm. Ma's roses are even prettier than these. I still try and get out there every so often."

"It's a nice place," Timmie replied softly, laying the bouquet gently down on her desk and moving ever-so-slightly closer to him. When Kon's hand crept around her waist to rest on the small of her back, she quickly drew in a breath, and pulled back against his grip, seeming to have trouble deciding whether she should pull out of his half-embrace.

"Don't go, Timmie," Kon pleaded. _Don't run away from me again…please._

Timmie stared at him for a long moment, nibbling on her lower lip. "I don't…I don't know," she said finally, seemingly only needing a reason to be convinced.

"Maybe…if we take things slow?" Kon suggested, hope shining in his eyes as he inched nearer to her. _Please._

"Slow is…good," Timmie agreed, gaze drifting away from his eyes to rest on his lips.

Kon could take a hint. "Good," he repeated, before pressing their lips together.

It was. Very good.

* * *

Despite their best intentions – or maybe because of them – Tim and Kon's relationship was like a snowball rolling down a hill; it picked up momentum the longer it went on. Barely a month after they officially started dating, they had sex for the first time.

Not without some problems, of course.

They were half-undressed on the couch in Tim's living room; the self-same couch that Kon had slept on that week in November when he was taking care of Tim while she was sick. It was a lot more comfortable to make out on than to sleep on. But anything more than that…

Timmie felt as if she couldn't breathe; Kon kissed like he was trying to become one with her, deep and slow and selfishly, tongue stroking over her teeth and the inside of her mouth, reckless and exploratory and curious, as warm and safe as Kon himself.

And when Kon pulled back from her, Timmie found herself leaning after him, not wanting the kisses to ever end.

"Timmie…I…" Kon licked his lips, and she found herself following the path his tongue had taken with her eyes, and then her fingers, and finally her own lips.

When Kon wrenched himself away from her the next time, he was panting hard, and holding Tim's wrists so she couldn't come after him. "Tim, I can't…"

Perplexed, Tim asked, "Can't what?" Her heart pounded as she thought, _Can't…be with me? Am I…not enough for him anymore?_

"I can't…hold back anymore," Kon told her, eyes dark with restrained passion. "You're so…I want you so much, I need you so much, and… God, Timmie, I want you." Before Timmie could even start to comprehend what he was saying, Kon continued, "And I know I sound like such a shit, but…I don't think I can stop myself if I don't now, and you…"

Blushing as she realized what Kon was talking about, Tim stuttered, "Um…I…I… Kon…" She'd loved Bernard with all of her heart. But with the birth of Robin, her heart had grown, and now, she realized, so had her feelings for Kon.

She…she thought she was starting to love him, too. Not more or better than she had Bernard, but…different, and just as much and in as many ways. And Kon…she wanted Kon, too. "Oh, God, Kon, I…I want you, too," Timmie admitted. "And I'm so tired of waiting, so tired of denying myself. Denying myself…happiness." She swallowed hard, fighting an upswell of emotion as she thought back on the long, lonely years she'd spent since Robin was born.

"You don't have to deny yourself anything," Kon breathed, tipping her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "I want to give you…everything, Timmie. Everything I can."

She looked up at him, eyes bright with yearning. "I want everything," she told him. "Everything…with you."

Kon's intake of breath was loud in the still room. "Everything?" he asked. "You want…do you want this?" Kon asked, pressing his hips against hers so that his interest would speak for itself.

Tim felt her legs splay open just a bit at Kon's touch, wanting, wanting… "I, um… Are you sure?" she stuttered. Tim shivered as Kon pulled back a bit and stroked a calming hand up her back inside her opened blouse, coming to rest on the strap of her bra.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Kon asked, trying for a light, amused tone.

Tim blushed and ducked her head, fiddling with the buttons on Kon's shirt. "I meant on the couch. Robin could get up for a glass of water and…"

The perils of dating someone with a young child. But it wasn't as if they could have gone to Kon's apartment, not and leave Robin alone. And Kon…well, he was willing to let Tim use her daughter as an excuse, if she felt she needed an out.

"I didn't know if you want to go that far," Kon said. At Tim's look, he clarified, "Um, I meant to, y'know, sharing a bed." For some people, sharing their personal space was more intimate than…sharing their personal space. It always had been for him. But Timmie just…fit so well into every place in his life.

"Well, I…I…" Tim blew out a breath of aggravation and, setting her jaw, said in a rush, "I do want to." She bit her lip, then asked, "Come to bed with me?"

Looking down at those hopeful, yet apprehensive, eyes, Kon could only say, "Yeah."

* * *

The walk down the hall was only mildly awkward, in part because Tim's thoughts were a whirl; she couldn't concentrate on anything like worry when she was so…euphoric. And in part because Kon's fingers were twined with her own. That simply overwhelmed any amount of nervousness she could have felt.

Once they reached the bedroom, Tim closed the door behind them, leaning against it and watching him almost warily. Kon smiled, pulling her into his arms, and tilted her chin up so he could kiss her again. Slow and deep, sinking into her like sunshine or rain; something natural and so right that her skin just drank him in.

Like she wanted to; just devour him so he'd always be a part of her.

He tugged her down with him to the bed, Tim straddling Kon's spread legs without a second thought, pressing up against him. When Kon finally pulled back, separating from the kiss, her face was flushed and her lips were bruised and aching from his touch. **For** his touch.

A blush stole over her cheeks under his stare, and he chuckled and nuzzled against her neck. "How 'bout we get under the covers?" he suggested.

Tim swallowed hard, and nodded. She had no real idea what she was doing; Bernard had been her only lover, but she knew Kon must have had several women in his life before her. "I n-need to take off my shoes," she stuttered, and mentally cursed herself for saying something so inane. She also berated herself for not having taken her shoes off back in the living room, as Kon had.

"Socks, too," Kon agreed in a rough voice, his hands palming her waist through her blouse. Tim could feel his heat through the thin cloth, and she thought that maybe she wasn't the only one whose mind had been sex-befuddled.

After another few kisses, Kon gently shifted away from her, reluctance etched in his every feature at the move. He gave her a long, heated look, and she ducked her head with a blush. Kon then started to untuck the comforter and sheets, and as he moved to shove the pillows out of the way, Tim roused herself from her reverie. It was almost surreal, watching Kon unmake her bed, but she needed to get her shoes off.

And her socks.

And then…and then…

And then.

* * *

Kon watched from underneath his eyelashes as Tim toed off her loafers and then tugged off her socks, stuffing them neatly into the toes of her shoes. His interest rose as she fiddled hesitantly with the button and zipper on her jeans, before finally undoing the one and lowering the other. Her opened, untucked shirt hid her foray into nakedness, and when she around to face him, Kon didn't let her descend back into nervousness, instead taking her into his arms again.

If there was one thing he'd perfected in his life, it was his ability to kiss women senseless. He thought it was only fair; Timmie was the latest and best in a long line of women who seemed to measure their femininity on a scale of being completely able to confuse men's minds, more specifically his.

Tim confused him more than anyone, and he loved it. He loved the fact that she was normally so predictable, but sometimes she wasn't. Kon wanted to show her how much he loved that about her, to pleasure her until she stopped worrying about doing something wrong, and just let herself **feel**.

First times were never perfect, but Kon was going to do his best to ensure that Tim wouldn't know the difference.

He quickly disposed of her shirt, flinging it to the floor in a crumple of aqua-colored linen. More kisses distracted Timmie as he slid her jeans down off her slender legs, leaving her in just her underwear. All that smooth golden skin on display – for him.

And only him.

It took a moment for Tim's eyes to open and see how exposed she was, but in that one unguarded instant, Kon saw how utterly gorgeous she could be when she let herself go.

And Kon became determined to see Timmie like that as often as possible.

Kon didn't sense any fear in her – or he would have stopped, no questions asked – but uncertainty and nervousness radiated off of Tim in waves. From what little Tim had told him, she was pretty much virginal. But he was so used to seeing her as that take-charge career woman that her shyness was almost…cute. They'd made out more than a few times, getting progressively farther along towards third base from second, but nakedness was new. He knew it would undoubtedly be easier for her if they were on more equal footing, so he tugged his black T-shirt out of his khakis and pulled it off. He twirled it around over his head like a Chippendale dancer, surprising a bark of laughter from Tim, before slinging it away to join her blouse.

Kon knelt up on the bed to undo his pants, but was stopped by one slim, yet strong hand.

"Let me do that," she said, and while her cheeks were red, her gaze was steady and determined.

"Okay," Kon said, breathing heavy with anticipation.

She near about killed him with how slow she took things, but by the time she'd divested him of his pants and he was sitting there trembling in just his black boxer briefs, Kon was revising his estimate of how nervous Tim was. Her anxiety was clear, but just like in tense board meetings where her courage under fire was legendary, here, in the bedroom, she wasn't letting anything get in the way of what she wanted.

And what Timothea Drake wanted, was to see him, Kon L. Kent, naked.

He could **so** go with that.

Only now that she'd gotten him **mostly** naked, Tim seemed hesitant to go any farther. Her hand was toying with the waistband of his underwear, but not actually moving it lower, and she was looking at a fold in the sheets a few inches away from his right thigh.

Taking her hand in his own, Kon proceeded to remove his underwear, freeing his hard cock from its cloth prison. He saw Tim cast a glance below his waist before turning her blushing back on his face, free hand curled almost protectively across her midriff.

"You okay?" he asked, shifting so that their hips touched, only a thin layer of cotton separating them. They could still stop; hell, he'd stop whenever she asked.

Though it would be easier before he got any hotter than he already was.

Timmie let out a shaky, shuddery sigh. "Yeah. I… Kon." And then she kissed him, fast and hard, before turning her eyes down – though not away – and blushing, yet again.

Kon still wasn't sure she was sure, though. "We going too fast?"

Timmie shook her head, and finally looked straight at him. "No, this is…" She splayed a hand across his chest, her thumb inches away from his nipple. "This is…good. I just…I don't know what to do." At that, she didn't blush, but she looked more uncomfortable than she had all night.

"You think I do?" Kon asked, and at her miffed look, added, "Everyone's different, Timmie. And you're…very different from everyone I've ever known." He'd know plenty of women who could completely confuse him, but only ever on purpose. Timothea Drake could tie him up in knots without even trying. She spent a lot more time in charge of things than most of his girlfriends, but she also had no problem letting him take the lead.

And she could be bitchier than anyone he'd ever met, but she also had a sweeter smile than any he'd ever seen.

Apparently, either his words or his actions had communicated his sincerity to Timmie, because her miffed expression softened – back into uncertainty, unfortunately. So sliding his hands up her arms to her shoulders, Kon coaxed her close and into another worry-melting kiss. Once she had gone from board-stiff to purring compliance in his arms, he tugged off her underwear, revealing a soft thatch of black curls beneath her bellybutton. Tim blushed under his regard, and kicked them to the floor, purposefully spreading her legs so he could look. Her bra, a simple cotton garment that matched her plain white panties, took a little longer to remove, as Kon was trying to simultaneously kiss her and unhook the catches in the back.

He pushed Timmie gently onto her back – making sure her head was cushioned on the pillows – and trailed kisses down from her mouth, past her pert breasts. He swirled his tongue around her left nipple, noting with some surprise that they were a dusky purple color, and not any shade of pink he'd ever seen before on a woman.

Tim just kept surprising him.

He watched those baby blue eyes dilate until they were almost solid onyx, heard the breath freeze in her throat, saw the way she shuddered and pressed tighter to him, and moaned in pure pleasure as he held her back.

"God, Kon, please…I…" Tim sounded so helpless…helpless to the pleasure he'd only barely started to give her. And helpless, in her relative inexperience, to know what to do with it.

Her shocked gurgle of a moan at his oral ministrations was yet another pleasant surprise, deep and husky, and sounding like pure sex. And the way she writhed underneath him, completely without artifice, yet so very erotic…

Kon was in heaven. And Timmie was his goddess.

He planned to worship her for as long as she'd let him. Hopefully, the rest of his life.

* * *

_For the full, NC-17 ending to this chapter, please go here: www. squidge. org/(tilde)peja/ cgi-bin/ viewstory.php(question mark)sid(equal sign)32541_


	7. Settling In

**Settling In **

* * *

There wasn't anything wrong with the moderate pace Tim and Kon's relationship had assumed, but the Fates conspired against them. When Kon came in to work at six on the last Saturday morning in March to finish up some paperwork, he was surprised to find his boss in her office. Timmie tried to work as few Saturdays possible, so as to spend more time with Robin, and she'd already worked one that month.

When Kon peaked inside the door, he got a second shock: Robin was asleep on the couch in the corner, wearing her pink footy pajamas and wrapped up in her ballerina sleeping bag, her stuffed cat clutched in her arms, and her real cat snuggled against her feet.

"Uh… Tim?" Kon whispered, not wanting to disturb the sleepers.

Tim's head shot up, and she didn't blush, but she did look more than a bit uncomfortable. "Hey, Kon."

Carefully closing the door with as little noise as possible, Kon crept across the room to stand next to his girlfriend. He noticed the suitcases piled behind her desk, and became even more confused. "What's going on?" He hoped Tim wasn't going on a business trip or something; he'd miss her. And Robin.

But, considering the amount of luggage, maybe she was going to ask if Robin could stay with him while she went out of town…

"The heat went out last night," Tim said, keeping her voice hushed. "And when I got up to check it, I found that the electricity was out. All over the block."

"Really?" Kon asked, surprised. _So I don't need to get my place kid-proofed._

"Apparently there was an ice storm during the night." Tim's lips twisted in a wry frown. "Five hours of freezing rain on top of ten inches of drifted snow, and now everything's a virtual winter wonderland. I called the electric company, but so many power lines went down that they say it's going to take a week or more before things are fixed everywhere. Since it was four in the morning, I decided that we could just camp out here for the day while I tried to find us a hotel."

Kon was stunned; it had been colder than usual that Spring, but what she'd told him sounded much more serious than anything he'd heard. "Have you found one?" he asked, pulling up a chair to Tim's desk.

Glaring at her computer screen, Tim said, "Not for less than two hundred and sixty-five dollars."

"A week?" Kon asked, straddling the chair by her desk. "That's not so bad."

"A night," Tim corrected, shoving her keyboard away from her and turning to face him. "And the hotel is in Metropolis." Metropolis was in New York, on the other side of the state line from Gotham. In this winter weather, she'd have to commute almost two hours if they stayed there.

Kon blinked. "Have you tried the local Motel 6?" It was cheaper than she was probably used to, but actually not that bad. And Robin wouldn't care one way or the other, he was sure.

"They're full up," Tim replied. "So are the La Quinta, the Marriott, the Hampton Inn and the Holiday Inn. The only vacancies in Gotham are at the Grande Hotel and the Ritz, and I'm not doling out a thousand dollars a night just for a place to sleep."

"That many people were put out by the ice storm?" Kon asked incredulously, blushing when Tim shushed him, gesturing to Robin, who continued her imitation of a log.

"There's also a Shriner's convention in town," Tim said with a roll of her eyes. "The few places that are cheaper, well, they wouldn't take pets." She gave him a pleading glance. "I was hoping Patches could stay with you for a few days."

"That's fine," Kon agreed. He watched silently as Tim flipped through the open phone book and called more hotels, trying and failing to find a place for her and Robin to stay. An idea niggled at the edges of his mind, but he wasn't sure Tim would be on board for it. Finally, though, he thought, _Nothing ventured, nothing gained,_ and thought he might as well offer. "You know…you could stay with me."

Tim had just been picking up phone again when he spoke, and she fumbled with it, placing it back in its cradle before turning to Kon. "You…what?"

Kon really hated putting that almost-but-not-really scared look on Tim's face. He shrugged diffidently and his answer rambled out, "Well, I don't have a spare bed, but my apartment still has heat, and there's a couch. Plus, the armchair folds out." He grinned disarmingly. "And you know I don't have a problem with pets."

Timmie stared at him for a long moment, until Kon began to grow uncomfortable under her regard. At last, she said, "If you're sure we won't be too much trouble…"

Kon immediately shook his head. "I wouldn't mind at all." Though he **would** have to get his apartment child-proofed, after all.

Sighing in relief, Tim smiled at him. "Then…I would be very grateful to accept your kind offer."

Smiling tentatively back, Kon wondered if Tim would ever be comfortable enough around to quit falling back on formality when she was unsure of herself.

He hoped so.

* * *

Robin was ecstatic to find that she and her mother – and Patches, of course – would be having a 'sleepover' with Kon, so much so that they all three left work early. They picked up Chinese takeout on their way 'home,' and arrived at Kon's apartment around five. The doorway opened into a large living room, patio doors showing a view of the city from the left, the kitchen tucked back on the right side behind a counter; a short hallway on the opposite of the room branched off to the right and left

Immediately spying Lucky and Lacey, Kon's cats, Robin and Patches went to investigate them. Tim set their luggage down next to the overstuffed sofa and tried to keep her mouth from watering at the appetizing scents coming from the Wong Fu cartons. It wasn't that hard; her hunger was battling anxiety at living with Kon for the next few days.

Neither one appeared to be winning – yet.

Meanwhile, Kon noticed the answering machine light blinking, and pressed the button to receive his messages.

_Hello, this is Kon's microwave,_ his old friend Roxy's cheery voice boomed from the machine. She'd recorded the message back when they were still in college together, her in the sister sorority to his fraternity. They'd bonded over their family issues: she lived in Hawaii, CalTech having been as close as she could get to her widowed father who couldn't manage to wash his socks without help; he'd gone to college to get away from his. _His answering machine just eloped with his stereo, so I'm stuck taking his calls. If you'd like anything heated up while you leave your message, just hold it up to the phone. Oh, and leave a message at the grill._

Kon heard a feminine, yet not delicate snort and turned to find Timmie watching him with amusement. He grinned comically.

"Hey, man!" came Bart's voice as the first message started. It was from right after he'd come back from Smallville, and he hadn't gotten around to actually deleting it. "I would have thought you'd have changed that message; you've had it what, six years? Anyway, you so owe me for schlepping halfway across town to your apartment the day after Christmas. All that traffic… And that other little errand? You owe me **double** for that. But, since I am a great friend, I did it anyway. I fed your cats, I watered your plants, and I stole your Victoria's Secret catalogue. Oh, I also bought you some milk and restocked your coffee. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, dude!" There was the sound of a frog croaking out _Jingle Bells_; Bart had put on his favorite Christmas decoration to serenade him.

Now unable to hold back her giggles, Timmie's laughter rose above the soft beep from the answering machine as the next message rolled around.

"Why don't you get Robin settled?" Kon suggested, only half-listening to the Verizon rep offering him a new long distance plan. "Bathroom's on the right, along with my bedroom. The fold-out chair's in the other room on the left. I'll heat up the food and meet you in the kitchen."

Tim nodded and headed towards the sound of purrs and giggles, quickening her pace as she heard a growl. Robin kept forgetting that cats didn't like it when their fur was stroked the wrong way.

A few scratches had taught her not to pull on Patches' tail. Hopefully she wouldn't need an object lesson in any other area of cat-care.

* * *

Meanwhile, Kon tossed his keys in the basket by the door and grabbed the plastic bags full of red and white cartons. Wong Fu's was the only Chinese place in all of Gotham that actually used the cardboard containers, instead of Styrofoam boxes. Kon appreciated that, because he didn't have to put everything onto plates to microwave it.

But maybe Timmie didn't like eating out of the cartons… Kon frowned, punched in the appropriate time on the microwave and waited for the clock to count down. Tim didn't **seem** like the kind of woman who cared about sitting down to dinner every night at a table with a tablecloth and candles and actual **silver**ware, but just because she didn't demand fancy dining didn't mean she wouldn't like to use a plate.

Kon spent the next ten minutes shuttling back and forth between his pantry, to look for the picnic stuff he'd **thought** everyone had, and the microwave to change out which cartons of food he was heating up. Once he'd finally track down some paper plates (in dusty plastic packaging, and how could they have gotten dusty when he'd only lived in that apartment for five months?) and gotten them and some forks set out on the kitchen counter along with the now slightly-steaming food, Kon realized that Tim was nowhere in sight.

And neither was Robin. What were they up to?

Time to investigate.

When Kon found the two of them, Timmie was apparently giving Robin lessons in belly-rubbing, and Lacey was reaping the benefits. Lucky was across the room, fur bristled across his back, vigorously washing a paw, and angrily eyeing Patches, who was cavorting with an old catnip mouse, pretending to 'kill' it.

Lucky was the angrier of Kon's two cats. His name was reminiscent of the all the fights he used to get into with Lacey – one of which had resulted in his ear being partially chewed off, a la Mike Tyson – before she'd laid down the feline law and kicked his tail.

Kon had originally named them Butch and Sundance, but it quickly became obvious that Lucky wasn't butch, and Lacey liked to shred things: clothes, blankets, furniture, curtains, Lucky…people. It was the reason Kon had had her declawed. It was also the reason Kon had thought of renaming 'Butch' Cagney, before remembering that Cagney was a woman.

At the mention of the female of the species, Kon tapped Tim on the shoulder, startling her into looking straight up into his eyes. "Dinner's ready," he said at her questioning look.

Robin looked up at him with her big green eyes. "Fer tha kitties, too?" she said, ignoring Lacey's disgruntled growl as the girl stopped rubbing her belly.

"Um, sure," Kon said. He didn't actually 'feed' his cats, just filled up their food and water dishes every other day or so. But he supposed he could top them off before the three of them ate.

He'd have to show the dishes to Patches, anyway. Among other things… He hoped that Tim had managed to get the kitten litterbox-trained in the two months they'd had her.

Kon had a sinking feeling the answer would be in the negative.

* * *

Dinner was quickly eaten, Robin and Kon fighting over the wontons and Tim eating almost all of the pot stickers. Lacey, in a tremendous feat of agility, leapt over the table and stole a piece of sweet and sour chicken right out from between Kon's chopsticks.

Robin's giggles and the smile Tim couldn't hide in a mouthful of fried rice made it worth it to lose part of his meal.

"I like your house," Robin said as they were cleaning up. Kon was holding her up to the kitchen sink so she could wash her hands, and she was watching as Lacey washed her own face with her paws. "An' I like your cats." Robin giggled as Patches tried to catch Lucky's tail; the older male kept swishing it out of the younger kitten's way with tolerant amusement.

Kon grinned. "I'm glad." Especially since she and her mother would be staying with him for, at least, probably a week.

" C'n I play with the kitties?" she asked as she dried her hands on the proffered kitchen towel. "Patches keeps hiding from me, and I look and look for her, but she's too good at it, and I never find her, and hide 'n seek ain't no fun no more." She pouted prettily up at Kon. "Pwease?"

Tim knew that it was because Patches was still a kitten that she couldn't hold still long enough to 'play,' but she wasn't about to inform her daughter that cats couldn't play hide and seek.

"Sure," Kon said, then, remembering his own days of being a kid with the barn cats and how he'd tried their patience more than once by pulling their tails and such, he added, "Just, um, make sure you be gentle with them. They're tough, but they can be mean." He'd gotten more than a few scratches by no abiding by those rules; Lucky still had claws, after all, and they both had teeth.

"Okay," Robin said, squirming out of Kon's hold and running off to the living room.

"But after that, it's bedtime," Tim called after her.

Robin skidded to a halt in the doorway and turned back to face her mother. "Aw, Mama, do I hafta?" she whined. The strident sound of her voice would have normally made Kon wince, but he'd grown accustomed to his girlfriend's daughter, and he merely found it cute.

_Wow,_ Kon thought. He really had it bad.

"Sleepovers don't really start until everyone is **asleep**," Tim told her, and though Robin pouted, she sighed in acceptance before finishing her scamper to find Lucky and Patches.

Once they were alone in the kitchen, Kon turned to Tim. An awkward air had descended over the two, and Kon wondered about it, even as his quick-thinking mind came up with several explanations. " Robin seems to be taking this okay," he said, voicing what he thought might be chief among Timmie's worries.

A quick flash of a smile before Tim's gaze turned pensive again. "Yeah. It's like a great adventure for her."

"What's bothering you?"

"I, um…" Tim stood there in the doorway, hands twisting and climbing over each other like a pair of fretful mice. She sighed and turned serious eyes to his. "The…sleeping arrangements."

"Yeah?" Kon coaxed.

"I…I put Robin in the other room; she thinks the foldout chair is the coolest thing since peanut butter." Tim quirked a shaky smile. "But, uh…I don't think your couch is big enough to sleep on."

"It isn't as comfortable as the one at your house, either, but I can make do." Kon wondered if she'd take him up on it, or if…

Well, he was hoping for that 'if' but he wouldn't be too awfully surprised if she declined. Disappointed, sure, but not surprised. Just because they'd been having sex didn't mean that he was, well, entitled to it.

"You–?" Tim stared at him, hands falling to her waist, eyes wide with confusion. "I, um…I was thinking that I'd sleep on the couch."

But she'd just said… "But?"

"I, um, was wondering…if, maybe…uh…" Tim blushed and peeked out at him from underneath her eyelashes. "If maybe you would, um…"

Taking pity on Tim's obvious reluctant to actually come out and ask, Kon said, "We could share my bed…if you want."

The light in her eyes indicated that she **did** want. "I…would like that. Thanks, Kon."

"You're most definitely welcome," Kon said with a grin. Then, unable to hold back anymore, reached out to tug her close. It felt like forever since he'd held her, or kissed her lips.

He only wished he could have forever to do both.

* * *

Later that evening, after Robin had had her bath – with her rubber ducky; Timmie had remembered **everything** – and been put to bed, with a story about growing up on the farm from Kon, Tim took a moment to rest on the couch. The whole day it had been just one thing after another. First it was the heat, and then trying to find a place to stay, and then things kept going wrong at work, and if it wasn't work-work, it was the Union rep calling to talk to her for an hour so that she missed lunch, and then getting 'home' and dealing with Kon and his cats and Robin being hyper from not getting enough sleep the night before and missing her nap…

Tim really needed a breather. And since Kon was with Robin, she had a few much-needed moments to herself.

Tim lay her head back on the couch and just breathed, deep gulps through her nose and out through her mouth. She was just starting to becoming lulled into a semi-sleepy state when, suddenly, she had a cat in her lap. Timmie started, and blinked down as the animal calmly turned around three times and settled across her thighs as though he napped there all the time.

She; it was Lacey, Tim could tell by the fact that both of her ears were intact. Also, Lucky was darker in color. Tim shook her head and looked down again as Lacey yawned hugely and began to take a bath.

In her lap. The weight of the cat wasn't much, but it was rather uncomfortable to have it settled on her thighs. Still, one did not shove a cat off their lap, especially not a cat as cantankerous as Lacey.

Lacey finally finished her bath and spent a little time sniffing her. Tim scraped her fingers down Lacey's back and watched her furred skin shiver. Tim scratched between her ears and Lacey twisted her head at a seemingly impossible angle to aid her.

Timmie had heard from somewhere that petting a cat was a calming activity, and it certainly seemed to be having a dramatic effect on lowering her stress level. But, once again, by the time she was half-asleep, something happened to interrupt her doze. The light flipped on, startled her and Lacey both. The cat shook herself once, all over, and then jumped down from Tim's lap, padding away and down the hall, while Kon entered the room.

Tim's breathing had formerly been slow and steady, but at the sight of Kon, it started to speed up, more of a hare than a tortoise. Kon was standing in the nebulous area of the apartment, between the living room and the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts that rode low on his hips, exposing both his bellybutton, and the beginnings of his pubic hair.

It was so very much **not** Tim's fault that she had been conditioned to think such sights a precursor to sex, and thus find them a turn-on. Not at all, not no way, not no how.

Kon was amused as he noticed the focus of Tim's dreamy gaze, and had to restrain himself from sucking in his nonexistent stomach and puffing out his chest. He'd learned the hard way that he only looked ridiculous when he did that, instead of emphasizing his masculinity.

"Um…hi," Tim said, blushing when she noticed what she'd been doing.

Kon grinned softly. "Hi. You getting sleepy?" he asked, sitting on the couch beside her.

Tim felt herself nodding almost before she'd even thought, partially entranced by the sight of all that golden skin, and the feel of the heat of it. She was tired, and though she still felt the slow burn of arousal simmering low in her belly, really, she just wanted to sleep.

Maybe, if she woke up early enough… Tim quickly banished such thoughts, determined not to do anything else embarrassing in Kon's sight, like blush for the third time in as many minutes. "Yeah, a little. Is Robin asleep?"

Kon snorted. "She let me tuck her into bed, but she wants a goodnight kiss from you first."

"Oh, of course." Tim rose from the couch, blinking through a wave of exhaustion that made her dizzy for a moment.

Kon watched her pad slowly towards the door and said, "After you do that, I think maybe you should get ready for bed, too."

Tim twisted back to around to face Kon, her lips following suit wryly. "I think I'm capable of deciding my own bedtime, Kon."

Kon just looked at her, a smile lurking around his lips as he glance pointedly towards her left arm – which was leaning against the wall, supporting her weight.

"And maybe it should be soon," Tim conceded, a traitorous blush coloring her cheeks.

"Good." Kon looked pleased – almost too pleased, and for a moment Tim wanted to slap that smirk off his face. "There's a few things I need to take care of before we go to bed, so how about I meet you there?"

Tim stilled at his words, reminded suddenly of the fact that they were, for all intents and purpose, living together now. 'Shacking up' as Darla would have said. She and Kon were going to be sharing his bed for the next few weeks.

It was thrilling, but the anticipation was tempered with nervousness. That was pretty much what every new experience with Kon had been like, and so far Tim had counted all such experiences well worth it. "Yeah, I…okay," Tim said, and then edged out of the door and headed down the hall towards Kon's bedroom.

Their bedroom, for the foreseeable future.

* * *

In truth, Kon had absolutely nothing to 'take care of' before bed except his habitual nightly check of the locks, but he had a feeling Tim would appreciate some alone time before…well, before being not-alone.

Tim, for her part, appreciated the time alone. And didn't. Because the longer she had to wait, curled under the simple white sheets and blue blanket on Kon's bed, the longer she had for her anxiety to build. She and Kon had slept together before – as well as 'slept' together – but for some reason, the innocent artifice of that evening's planned sharing of a bed – as well as the lack of sex beforehand – seemed to make it more…intimate.

Kon had been right, that first time, when he'd said that to some people, sharing a bed was too much. It wasn't, for her, she just…didn't know how to handle it.

Timmie was really starting to get worked up, when a cat joined her in bed. She gave a startled little gasp when the beige and brown animal just appeared on the side of the bed and yowled softly almost directly in her ear.

She blinked, and started to push the cat away reflexively, but the cat ignored her, coming to poke around her face with a slightly wet nose. In the dim light coming through the window, Tim saw the ragged ear and realized that it must be Lucky, and not Lacey.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly, not really expecting an answer.

Tim received only a disdainful 'Mrrrr' in reply.

Maybe Lucky usually slept with Kon, and since she was in his bed… Well, she – and Robin, and Patches – had already put Kon out; it would be mean to kick the cat out of his bed as well. As long as Lucky was willing to share.

Curling up next to her stomach, it appeared Lucky was being generous. He was warm and Timmie found her arms winding around him of their own accord. It had been a long time since she'd shared a bed with anyone, and even then it had only been on the occasional childhood sleepover with female friends.

She and Bernard had never gotten a chance to…

Tim firmly shoved those thoughts out of her mind and shifted the cat up higher, closer to her chest, curling toward the heat and the contact…toward the soft sound of breathing. She was nearly asleep when she felt the cat slip out of her grasp, and might have chased after him if Kon hadn't chosen that moment to come to bed. He'd added a well-worn T-shirt to his ensemble, and when he slipped underneath the covers and cuddled her close to him, Tim found herself forgetting all about Lucky as she burrowed into Kon's chest.

Kon was a lot warm than Lucky, and bigger, if not nearly as soft. But Timmie definitely liked sleeping with him. A lot.

* * *

When Timmie awoke the next morning to the sounds of breakfast-making in the kitchen, she found herself surrounded by two purring puddles of warmth. It took a few moments for her sleep-befuddled mind to work out that they were Lucky and Lacey, Kon's cats. They had apparently decided, sometime during the night, to bunk with her.

Or maybe they **both** just slept with Kon each night, and had decided to take advantage of her presence now that Kon was gone.

Gone…making breakfast.

Tim reflexively pushed down her disappointment that her tentative thoughts of a little 'morning delight' had been derailed, and thought maybe she should give it a few more days of learning the routine of living with Kon before she tried anything.

Then, three things happened: the breakfast sounds paused for a moment, and then grew closer, the cats both perked up at this first and bounded out the door, and she noticed that the clock said it was only five minutes past six.

The breakfast sounds grew closer and were seemingly intercepted by the cats, since a chorus of mewling started up.

Through the door Tim heard the low rumble of Kon's voice, though she couldn't make out the words. Then the door opened and Kon bustled inside, albeit **backwards**, carrying…

…a breakfast tray? For two, apparently, going by the dual set of silverware and plates and steaming mugs.

There was also something suspiciously like an origami flower folded – **badly** folded – out of notebook paper stuck in a thin juice glass. Tim felt her heart melt as Kon kicked the door shut, scolding the cats for making so much noise and then turned around, jumping at the sight of her.

"You're awake," he said dumbly.

"So are you," Tim returned, eyeing the tray in his hands with avid interest. The repast he'd prepared didn't look like much – blueberry frozen waffles and sliced peaches – but he'd made it, for **her**, and…

God, if she wasn't already falling in love with him, she knew she would be now.

"Well, you made me breakfast when I stayed over at your house…" Kon settled gingerly onto the bed next to her, scooching closer as she took the tray and set it on her lap.

Tim blushed, remembering that breakfast…and the kiss afterwards, and how she'd freaked out. "Thanks."

"No problem," Kon replied, picking up a fork and spearing a slice of peach. "Eat up. Robin'll be awake soon and we'll have to feed her."

"We?" Tim teased as she took a bite out of the peach, eyes sparkling with amusement at Kon's huff of indignation. "You're unable to toast more Eggo waffles or slice more peaches?"

"No, of course not…" Kon said, and the look of panic on his face was almost comical. "I just meant that…um…that maybe we could do something…together… Um, make her breakfast, yeah! I…"

Tim laughed at his stuttered explanations. He wanted her to eat quickly so they could have 'dessert.' Which was absolutely fine with her; perfectly wonderful in fact.

Kon sputtered to a halt at that, sighed in relief and grinned at her.

She stuffed an entire waffle in Kon's mouth to stifle whatever it was he was planning to say. "Eat now, talk later," she remonstrated him. "And between those two, we can, um…" She blushed, unable to go through with actually spouting some sexual innuendo.

Kon's grin widened, showing her a mouthful of blueberries and bread, and Tim made a moue of faux disgust. No matter that she met many polished, poised men in her line of work, she definitely preferred Kon's cutely bumbling, occasionally inept, always kind, endearingly charming self.

She felt like she fit with him. And she was learning just how right that fit felt.

* * *

Living with Kon, Timmie was able to literally immerse herself in learning about him. She wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing, but she was becoming…comfortable…living in his apartment. Sleeping in his bed. Making love with him – quietly so as not to wake Robin – late at night and cuddling with him early in the morning.

Tim wasn't entirely certain if that comfortableness was a good idea.

But she was enjoying it. She enjoyed how Kon would wake up at the crack of dawn – a legacy of farm living, he told her – and let her sleep in while he showered and then fixed breakfast. She enjoyed how some mornings he'd get Robin dressed while she showered and then she'd come out buttoning up her blouse or putting on her earrings to find the both of them camped out on the couch, laughing at Oscar the Grouch and Mister Snuffleupagus. By the time the Bert and Ernie sketch had ended and the TV was singing about which letter and/or number the show was sponsored by, it was time to leave for work.

Timmie enjoyed the change in their routine. She liked driving to work with the both of them, from a shared home, instead of having Kon come pick the both of them up. She enjoyed eating their lunch together, at her desk or sometimes Kon's, which seemed to happen every, bar midday meetings that took her away.

Away from **him**, and that was the problem. Timmie was starting to think of her job as second to her time with Kon. But she'd already decided to put Robin first in her life, so that meant Kon would be second, and her job would be third, and…

Tim was worried about losing control of her life, because it seemed as if she already **had**. Kon hadn't even crept under or over her defenses; he'd just walked through them like they weren't even there and made himself at home in her heart.

And nothing had blown up, nothing had gone wrong…everything in her life was going right, better than ever. Tim had always been one to question good fortune. And with Kon in her life…things were about as good as they could get.

* * *

All good things had to come to an end, and after two weeks, the electricity was finally turned back on in Timmie's house. She thought about stalling for a few days, not mentioning it, but she was drowning in Kon, and felt as if she needed to back off a bit.

A little space, to get her head around the idea that she was…developing feelings for him.

Oh, who was she kidding? She was falling head over heels for Conner 'Kon' Kent.

And it scared the living daylights out of her.

* * *

It didn't scare Timmie enough to do something rash like break things off with Kon, say, "We should see other people," or, "It isn't you, it's me." She didn't want to see anyone else – she just wanted to see **less** of Kon for a little while. And even if it **was** mainly her, she'd never admit it.

She didn't have to. Kon seemed to understand without her having to say a word. And while at work he didn't manage to retain a completely professional air with her like they had in the months **before** they started dating, he did manage to keep the gestures of affection to a minimum.

Tim appreciated that more than she could say; it enabled her to get her equilibrium back, and finally settle in to actually being with Kon.

Which, apparently, meant lots of sex.

Kon and Tim had learned a lot of things about each other in the short time she and Robin lived with him, including what each other liked in bed, but more than that, they learned the little things about people that one generally only learned from prolonged exposure.

Kon learned that Tim was Jewish; though not Orthodox, she could speak Hebrew. Tim learned that Kon could speak a handful of Klingon phrases, but preferred _Deep Space Nine_ to _The Next Generation_. They both agreed that Robin's favorite 'guilty pleasure' TV show of _Tellytubbies_ was a bad excuse for programming, and shuddered whenever Jerry Fallwell was mentioned in conjunction with any type of moral opinion.

There was, however, only so much Cartoon Network two adults could take. It was quickly decided between them that _Friends _was insipid, _Seinfeld _was okay, but not worth one million dollars a season, and _Wendy: The Werewolf Stalker _going to become a cult classic along the lines of _Rocky Horror Picture Show_. And that the shows on Nickelodeon were pretty cool, especially _Alf_, _Happy Days_, _I Love Lucy, _and anything else that proved they were geeks over retro television. Though Robin insisted that they used the word 'nerd' as Dr. Seuss had invented it, and anyway, her 'Uncle' Bart had told her geeks were what they used to call the people in the circuses that bit the heads off chickens, and that was just **mean**. And also gross.

It went without saying that they were never allowing Robin to eat half a box of mint chocolate Girl Scout cookies at once ever again. And no matter how much she begged, she wasn't getting anymore of Kon's root beer.

Kon could cheerfully drink Barq's all day long – except when he was feeling mellow, when he drank beer. Tim's favorite beverage was a toss-up between either cream soda or a brand of orange spice tea that she bought from a little out of the way shop on the West End of Gotham.

They both liked Chinese food, and loved Italian, and agreed that Robin liked pizza much more than even a devoted New Yorker could countenance. Pepperoni, however, was the Food of the Gods, and soundly trumped every other pizza topping there ever had been, including Italian sausage, bacon, or mushrooms.

Four cheeses was still a close second.

And they'd come to a blushing concordance that better than sex chocolate cake, while absolutely scrumptious…really didn't live up to its name. Or so Tim thought. She really didn't know what was happening to her. It wasn't that she wanted to have sex with Kon all the time – although she found herself thinking about it so often that that was what it seemed like – it was just that she wanted to **touch** him. To be near him. To snuggle with him, cuddle with him – was there a difference between the two? – to hold his hand, to hug him, to kiss him…

And then things would just snowball from there. She'd never been that touchy-feely in her life. Her parents had not been overly demonstrative people, and while she hugged and kissed Robin all the time, these romantic clenches were definitely new.

It almost disturbed her, how right it felt to be with Kon. To **belong** with him.

And to start doing things for him that she'd never thought of doing before. Not sex-things, or even touch-things, but…romantic things.

She started wearing nail polish more often because he seemed to like the way it looked on her. She wore her hair down more for the same reason. She wore less make-up because he liked to kiss her face so much, and he didn't like the taste.

And she started picking out her clothes each day with him in mind. She didn't do **everything** for him, but if she had a choice between what she thought he might like, and her own indifferent opinion…why not?

Which was how she found herself showing up to work on the day of an important meeting wearing a tight-fitting Chinese-style black silk dress, cherry blossoms stitched on in gold thread. It had a high collar, and buttoned up the front, and her hair was twisted up in match black-lacquered gold-tasseled chopsticks.

The dress was tighter than she remembered it being, and Tim felt embarrassed at exactly how that tightness showed off her every curve, but Kon's reaction when he came in with her morning cup of tea was **so** worth it. The files he held in his other hand fell onto her desk in a cascade of beige folders and white printed paper. Her cup of tea would have joined them if not for her quick reflexes.

Reflexes which pulled the bodice of her dress even tighter across her chest, and caused Kon to started breathing heavy.

Tim hide a smirk, sipped at her tea with feigned nonchalance, and waited for Kon's bug-eyed look to melt away and his mouth to actually let out words instead of strangled noises of appreciation.

"God, Timmie, you look…edible," Kon finally said on a groan. His eyes were practically swallowing her whole and Tim knew that the edibility thing wasn't just a metaphor.

Tim felt herself flush all over, an ache forming between her legs, setting her cup with a clatter on her desk. She hadn't expected that Kon would like her dress **that** much. Or that she'd liked his appreciation so much, ether. She threw a glance at the clock, and said regretfully, "We don't have time." Twenty minutes before she had to leave for her meeting, and she knew it would take at least half that long to get herself looking presentable again after what Kon would do to her in the course of their lovemaking.

Kon cleared his throat, pulling his shirt collar away from his neck as he looked away. "I wasn't suggesting…"

"But you were thinking about it," Tim stated. Kon would never push her, manipulate her; hell, he rarely ever **asked** her for anything sexual unless they were already (mostly) naked.

Sometimes Tim wanted him to. Wanted him to show her that he wanted her, even though she **knew** that he did with a visceral certainty that went beyond emotion into the physical. Timmie had never thought that she'd be the kind of girl to accept actions over words in that way, but then, she wasn't a girl anymore; she was a woman.

She watched as his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, hard, and then he said, "Yeah."

"Okay," Tim said, and pressed against Kon's chest, pushing him towards the nearby chair.

"Okay?" Kon squeaked. "Um. What…"

Tim grinned. "What do you think?" she asked with a sassy grin. Her bravado was about as real as it was feigned; she didn't really feel that confident in herself, but she knew Kon would like it, so it wasn't exactly fake…

"I think… I think…" Kon gulped, then grinned shakily as her nimble fingers undid his belt, lowering the zipper on his pants. "I think that I'm not going to be thinking for much longer."

* * *

_For the full, NC-17 ending to this chapter, please go here: www. squidge. org/(tilde)peja/ cgi-bin/ viewstory.php(question mark)sid(equal sign)32541_


	8. Closer And Closer

**Closer And Closer**

* * *

Tim had a drawer full of white cotton underwear (with the occasional pair of something pastel or something with a floral print bought on a whim, or black to wear underneath sheer clothing) and didn't think there was anything wrong with that. It was comfortable, practical…and if it was boring, well, there'd never been anyone to complain about it before.

Not that Kon was complaining about **anything**, per se, but Tim tended to notice that Kon's attention wavered more between her eyes and her breasts when she was half-dressed if what she was barely wearing looked less like _Fruit of the Loom_ and more like _Victoria's Secret_.

Not **much** more, because Kon apparently found her sexy even when – maybe especially when – Tim didn't think she was. But it was noticeable to her. And Tim did consider pandering to Kon's obvious – well, not kinks, but his tastes – however…lace underwear was **itchy**.

So she tended to only wear those things whenever Kon was most likely to take it **off** of her quickly.

Her plan, such as it was, had been working quite well so far. Even if Tim suspected that Kon had figured out her little game; he was willing to play along, and that was all that mattered.

And though there were still some things that neither of them knew about the other, that would be resolved with time.

* * *

When the first of April rolled around – and with it, a brunch date with Kon while Darla took Robin to the planetarium – Tim had prepared for a lot of things. She'd expected Robin to play a prank or two on her – there had been a rubbery black bat on her chair at the kitchen table, a very realistic-looking spider that had actually given her a turn hidden in her underwear drawer, and a set of chattering teeth hiding in the medicine cabinet – and for some of her friends to set upon her with half a dozen different types of playful practical jokes.

She'd even been prepared for Kon to maybe give her teeth-blackening chewing gum or slip food coloring in her tea.

But she hadn't expected for Kon to show up at her house and within minutes be faced with his serious 'Resolve Face.'

"You didn't tell me it was your birthday on Friday," Kon said as he followed her into the kitchen.

Poleaxed by not having expected the unexpected – of course – it took a moment for the implied rebuke to set in. Tim blushed, even as she busied herself checking on the cinnamon rolls in the oven – she'd decided to make something instead of them going out to eat, but she had a tendency to leave things in too long by accident. "I, um…forgot?" In truth, she'd originally thought that the only birthday it was important for Kon to know was Robin's. She didn't even know when his was, though presumably it wasn't in the Spring.

Kon shook his head, grinning. He sat down on the edge of the kitchen table and pulled her to stand between his spread legs, arms settled loosely around her waist. "You just didn't want to admit that your birthday is on Friday the thirteenth," he teased, knowing that her absentmindedness had truly been the reason for not telling him. She just hadn't remembered that he didn't know when her birthday was.

Tim started, then groaned, eyes closing in a gesture of pain more mental than physical. "It is?" she asked. It was a Sunday, and twelve days later would be…yup.

"Yup," Kon said, nodding for confirmation as Tim opened her eyes. "And I was thinking that maybe we could…I dunno…go out for dinner then? You and me and Robin?"

"I…that would be nice," Tim conceded.

"Just…someplace without a giant animatronic mouse, okay?" Kon begged, eyes wide and laughingly pleading.

Tim had to smile back. Robin's fondness for Chuck E. Cheese was…well, it was almost scary in its intensity.

"Sounds nice," Tim said, cuddling closer to Kon.

It did. Very nice.

* * *

And it was nice. Nice to sit in a quiet – well, relatively; the mariachi band wouldn't play the birthday song for her until dessert – corner booth and eat chips and salsa while watching Kon try and explain the difference between a burrito and an enchilada to Robin.

Timmie thought she could get used to it. Having Kon around – and not just at work.

Actually, especially not at work.

"Why are dey called soapy peels if dey taste like cinnanamon toast?" Robin asked, squeezing what would be too much honey for anyone over the age of five on her sopa pilla. As it was, she was being very restrained.

Tim and Kon exchanged helpless glances. "Um…I think sopa pilla is Spanish, sweetpea," Tim finally said.

Robin turned her bright green eyes on her mother. "Fer what?"

"I don't know," Tim admitted.

Robin pouted. "Oh," she said in a small voice. Then she brightened. "Do ya know what I learned at my meeting today?" Robin had taken to calling her daycare a 'meeting' after Darla told her that meetings were when 'a bunch of people get together to do or talk about the same thing, and sometimes you like the people, and sometimes you don't.'

"No, why don't you tell us?" Kon asked, sipping at his punch.

"That you're my Mama's boyfriend," Robin said happily.

It took a moment for that to sink in.

Kon choked on his punch, eyes watering as he coughed to clear the blockage. Tim's own eyes widened to epic proportions, practically bulging out of her head.

As one, they both turned disbelieving gazes on Robin. "Um…what?" Kon squeaked.

Robin blinked at them. "Lian was there today," she informed them. "An' she said that her daddy was 'dating' a lady named Cass, an' that 'dating' was when two grown-ups went out ta dinner and stuff and did things together and sometimes spent the night with each other, and that maybe her daddy and Cass were gonna get mar-ried and Cass'd be her mommy someday, but right now Cass was just her daddy's girlfriend, and her daddy was Cass' boyfriend, and you and Kon have been spendin' lots of time together and he's spent da night more'n once, so Kon has ta be your boyfriend, Mama." She took a big gulp of air, having said all that on one breath.

It took more than a moment – perhaps three moments – for Tim and Kon to absorb all of that information.

"Um…okay?" Kon finally said, voice shaky.

Tim cleared her throat. "Yes, sweetpea, Kon is my…boyfriend," she said with a faint blush. She didn't know **why** it was throwing her for such a loop that Robin had figured out she and Kon were dating. In truth, she hadn't really given any thought to explaining to Robin what it meant that occasionally Kon was already there in mornings when she woke up, and there wasn't the excuse of her being sick.

Tim inwardly quailed as she realized that keeping important things from her child was the mark of bad parenting. She was turning into an awful mother.

"Dat means he's gonna be stayin' over more, right?" Robin asked earnestly. "I'd like it if he would." She sent a wide smile Kon's way.

"Um…" Tim caught Kon's amused, yet softly gentle look and blushed, again. She felt him take her hand underneath the cover of the table. "Yes," she said, even as his grip tightened.

"Good," Robin said, and Tim's worries melted away.

Kon smiled at her, and Tim thought that maybe…maybe she **was** doing okay in the mothering department.

* * *

That evening, once Robin had been bathed (by Tim, as, "Boys aren't s'posed to see girls nekkid!") and read two stories (by Kon, since he could do more funny voices) and put to bed (by both of them, because Robin had learned they were both soft touches for goodnight kisses), Tim and Kon settled down on the couch to talk.

Or, well, to just cuddle. There wasn't much talking, initially.

They just enjoyed being together, and ignored the rather awkward pink elephant in the room.

"So, um…" Kon cleared his throat, taking Timmie's hand only to practically play with her fingers, looking at them as if they were the most fascinating things in the world. In truth, while he did appreciate the chance to study her hands at close range, he was really just trying to avoid Tim's eyes. He had no real idea how to broach what was on his mind, so he figured he should just jump into the deep end of the proverbial pool with both feet.

Well, after he gave Tim her birthday present. "I, uh, I got you a present," he said, fishing the velvet box out of his pocket. He hadn't been able to figure out how to wrap it, and so had just tied a ribbon around the box it came in. "I hope you like it." He'd known exactly what he wanted to get her from the moment he saw how many family pictures she kept around her, but it had taken him weeks to find just the right one.

Tim's boggled stare confused him for a moment; it was her birthday, why was she surprised to get a gift from him? Then he realized what a jewelry box might look like, and understood. "I didn't get you a chain for it because I thought that you, um, might like to wear it on your necklace."

Seeming to breathe a little easier at Kon's words, Tim cracked open the box and lifted out his gift. It was a delicate silver locket, quite large for its type. Opening it, Tim revealed the four pictures it held, obviously ones carefully chosen by Kon. The one on the left was a picture of her and Bernard, at their senior prom, her in a daringly low-cut (so she'd thought at the time) navy dress, and him in his father's old powder blue tux, complete with ruffled shirt. Kon must have asked her parents, or maybe Darla, for that photo. Tim sniffled a little as she remembered how much fun they'd had, dancing like idiots and fawning all over each other.

The picture on the left of the branch in the middle was of her, Robin, Darla, and her step-mother Dana at the 'Take Your Daughter To Work' luncheon the previous May. On the opposite side of the insert was a picture of her, Robin and Kon at the planetarium, and the final picture, on the right half of the locket, was of her parents with herself as a baby.

Everyone important to her was in there. Even Bernard, and…Tim had worried that Kon might feel threatened by him, by his memory, but this…

Tim found herself at a loss for words, which seemed to spur Kon to an excess of verbiage, as if the silence was stifling him. Or as if he was worrying that he'd made a faux pas, adding yet another animal to their slowly building emotional zoo. "You can add another leaf to the inside…with room for two more pictures," Kon told her, handing over a soft cloth bag that was heavy in her hands. "I wasn't sure what you'd want, though."

It hit Timmie, all of a sudden, that the only pictures she'd like to add to the locket…were pictures of her as-yet-unborn children.

Hers and Kon's children.

They weren't even living together and already Tim was planning the nursery. But then, ever since Bernard…romantic love and children had been irrevocably entwined in her mind.

She really, **really** had it bad.

"The pictures are perfect," Tim told him, unable to stifle all of her tears as they brimmed in her eyes. "I…thank you so much, Kon. It's beautiful." She laid the locket carefully in the box and then pulled him into a hug, knowing of no way to express in words what she was feeling.

Except, perhaps, 'I love you.'

Timmie wasn't quite ready to say it, yet, even though she felt it with at least every other fiber of her being.

"I'm glad you like it," Kon murmured into her hair.

The held each other for a little while, until Tim finally asked, "Your birthday is in November, right?"

Kon nodded against her. "Mm-hm." He pulled back just enough so that they could look into each other's eyes.

"Good." Tim laughed softly. "I'll need that time to think of something perfect for you. It'll be hard for me to top this." She smiled.

"You do that just by being you," Kon told her, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. He pressed a kiss to her blushing cheek and grinned. "Anything you gave me would be wonderful."

There were a lot of things – some more ideas or concepts than physical things – that Timmie wanted to give him. But maybe she could give him something. "I…I really…I really care about you, Kon. I…I really do."

Kon's eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and his smile softened. "I care about you too, Tim."

"Can you…stay tonight?" She didn't want to let Kon go. No right then, not even in the morning, or…ever, really.

It kind of scared her, but then, most of the important things in her life terrified and thrilled her in equal measure. Robin, her job, Darla, and, most of all…love.

Kon grinned and nodded. "I was hoping you'd ask."

"I miss you when you're not here," Tim said without thinking. By 'here' she didn't just mean when Kon wasn't with her; she meant there at her house. In her territory, as it were.

A place where she could lay claim to his body as well as his heart.

"I like being here," Kon replied, his tone of voice saying that he missed her too.

"I like you being here. I…" Tim blushed and a guilty giggle escaped from her lips as she admitted in a voice so soft Kon almost didn't hear her, "I…I wish you could be here more often."

Kon mulled that over for a few long moments. "I…would like to be here more often," he said, finally deciding to go with the truth. "Would you like me to spend more time here?"

Tim's hand tensed in his own, but she didn't withdraw it from his grasp. "I, um…" Kon flicked his eyes up to meet Tim's, only to find her gaze focused away from him. "Yes."

For some reason, despite how much _Cosmopolitan _lauded the importance of emotional conversations, women never seemed to be any more at ease when discussing their feelings than men, Timmie even less so.

"That's, uh…I'd like that," Kon blurted.

Tim glanced at him. "Really?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah." Kon flushed and looked away. "I, um…I was actually kind of thinking…well, wondering…"

"Yes?" Tim coaxed when it appeared as if Kon needed some encouragement to talk more.

"I…well, my lease is going to end this month, and I wanted to ask if you thought…maybe…" Kon's eyes kept flicking back and forth from hers and various points around the room. "Well, I could if you wanted me to– uh, if you wouldn't mind, and–"

"Could…what?" Tim asked, even though she had more than an inkling of what Kon was getting at. She'd actually thought of the same solution herself – the solution to her problem of missing Kon whenever he wasn't with her, and being disappointed when she realized that the nights they spent together, even just sleeping, were all too infrequent.

And even if they'd barely been dating for four months, it didn't seem like it was too soon. It seemed just…right.

"Move…closer to here." At Tim's startled look, he elaborated, "I live on the other side of town, and I…I was thinking that I could rent an apartment near here. I…I like spending time with you, too, Timmie."

Tim blushed. She'd been thinking that Kon was going to suggest something slightly different. But maybe… "Spending time or…or making time?" she mumbled, words almost a jumble. She needed to know before she offered. If he only wanted to be closer to…to be **closer**, then maybe they should wait.

Kon was nonplussed. "Well…both," he said truthfully. She wouldn't believe him if he told her anything else, even if he did like just holding her like at that moment. And he liked it a lot. A whole lot. "I mean, I like this–" he held up their joined hands, "–but I like…the, uh, other stuff, too." He blushed.

A small, pleased smile cross Tim's face. "Me too," she said, and leaned into him, back against his chest so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. "Um, if you wanted, you could…" she gulped and forged ahead, "you could move in here."

Kon stilled, and then wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "I…if you really, uh, want me to…I'd like that. A lot."

Tim wondered if all those easy agreements weren't **too** easy, and might possibly lead to difficult fights in the future…but right at that moment, she had a hard time thinking of when she'd ever felt so content. "Me too."

* * *

**Two Weeks Later**

* * *

Timothea Drake had always considered herself a practical woman. Pragmatic, even. If something needed to be done, then she did it. If something could be done to make things easier, even if it was a bit untoward, she did it. If her daughter needed something, then she made it happen.

The first few months after she'd given birth to Robin, Tim found that there were unexpected obstacles to being a single parent. She didn't dare leave Robin alone for very long, even if she did have the baby monitor with her. So she found herself showering with the door open, and Robin in the next room. But when Robin started to fuss, she'd immediately go to her, and that had caused problems more than once with shampoo getting in her eyes.

So Timmie had cut her hair almost boyishly short, and that had solved that. When Robin started taking longer naps, she was able to let her hair grow out again. She'd also had trouble finding time to get her legs shaved, so she'd had the hair permanently removed and that had solved that problem for good. Both of which had netted her three hours extra free time each week – time she could spend with Robin.

Dealing with her period was time-consuming, even though it didn't take up much of her time. But Tim had so little to spare, she didn't want to waste it on something she wasn't getting any use out of it. She also didn't want to have to remember to take a pill everyday, because making sure Robin took her vitamins was a trying enough process, so she got the every three month Depo-Provera shot.

And that part of her pragmatism was coming to the fore as being **very** useful now that she and Kon were not only dating, but actually **living** together. Kon seemed to take their new physical proximity as carte blanche to touch her whenever he wanted.

Timmie had done nothing to disabuse him of that notion; she couldn't very well tell him he was wrong, because he wasn't. She loved it when he touched her. When Kon pressed her back against the wall – gently, but forcefully, and god, how that combination of tenderness and control made her weak in the knees – and started kissing her, Tim had the fleeting thought that it was a good thing she'd gone on birth control because she was really giving her body a workout in the sex department, and no one knew better than she how fickle fertility could be.

And if the thought of having Kon's child appealed to her, if at all, Tim didn't let herself dwell on it, instead letting herself wallow in the sensations Kon was causing with his hands on her body, and his mouth on hers.

* * *

She couldn't wallow forever; eventually something had to intrude upon her perfect little world, prick the bubble of happiness that surrounded her with its protective aura.

But sometimes change…wasn't always bad.

"Um…Tim?" Kon said, late one evening as they got ready to leave work.

"Hmm?" Tim grabbed her purse and locked the doors, before heading down the stairs. Her parents had taken Robin for the night, citing that they never got to spend enough time with their granddaughter.

They'd been jet-setting across the world for almost a year, but Tim couldn't exactly say anything against them. Maybe her father had retired a few years earlier than she'd planned, but he'd always been there for her, and so had Dana, since she was thirteen and her father had remarried.

And Timmie had finally figured out why her father had left her in charge of the company: he knew she'd miss Robin once she started school that fall, and he wanted her to have time to get used to running the company.

"I'd like you take you out," Kon said.

Tim blinked. "O-kaay?" she drawled, as if to say, 'And what do you think we've been doing?'

"On a real date." Expression sheepish, Kon added, "Without Robin."

That familiar jolt went through Tim; many times, a man had asked her and Robin out, only for him to all but demand that any and all subsequent dates be child-free. After the first few disasters – and they had been disasters, ending with her having to punch two guys, knee another one in the crotch, and listen to the whining of three others' about their jobs, their exes, or their mothers – with guys who thought that a few hours of 'making nice' with her kid would get her to spread her legs for him, Tim had pretty much given up dating.

Shaking off the déjà vu feeling, Timmie reminded herself that this was Kon, and he'd spent almost an entire **year** 'making nice' with Robin. A little voice sounding suspiciously like a mix of Darla and the snake in the Garden of Eden whispered, _And you've already spread your legs for **him** like a good little girl, haven't you?_

Tim felt a blush heat her cheek, and turned to look away from Kon, unseeing of the stairwell passing by. She reminded herself that shame had no place in her relationship with Kon. Yes, she had…let him touch her, but she hadn't done it just to…to keep Kon with her. She'd wanted him to touch her, and to touch him in return. And she'd never been one for thinking that chastity implied purity of any kind other than carnality.

And Kon had been waiting, patiently, for almost two minutes for her to stop brooding and wallowing in her thoughts and give him an answer. "I'd – I'd like that, but we'd need to find a babysitter." _We? **I **need to find a babysitter. Robin isn't Kon's daughter, no matter how much–_ Timmie cut her thoughts off there, more than a little scared to see where they would go.

"Well, I know you don't like to impose on Darla–" Kon said as he pushed through the doors to the parking garage.

"And she's out of town this week, anyway," Tim interjected, following him to his car. Darla was off in New York promoting her new album _Unprodigal Daughter_.

Kon nodded knowingly. "So I was thinking of asking my friend Bart." At Tim's frown, he added, "Robin met him once, remember; he stopped by the office to drop off presents. And he took care of my cats while we were in Smallville."

Tim mulled that information over as they got into Kon's car, and as she buckled her seatbelt, steeled herself and said, "Okay. How about Friday?"

Kon grinned at her as he flipped his turn signal. "Perfect."

* * *

Three days later, Bart arrived at Tim's house. After a nervous few minutes bidding Robin goodbye and admonishing her to be good for her 'Uncle' Bart, Tim left with Kon on their first official date. They drove to a nearby Italian restaurant and had dinner, Tim only able to think that it would have been incredibly boring to be observing her and Kon, mostly because their interaction involved a lot of comfortable silences and staring at each other adoringly. They were those young yuppie couples in dressy outfits that old couples sighed over in reminiscence and kids rolled their eyes at for being 'mushy.' They acted more than a little sappy, big smiles on their faces the whole time. There was flirting, there was hand holding – there was an aborted game of footsie when Timmie accidentally pressed too hard with her heel and bruised Kon's shin.

They laughed about it during dessert, sharing a piece of chocolate cake that got licked off each other's lips more than eaten with the two forks provided.

A year before, Timmie could have considered such a display totally disgusting. It just…hadn't been something she'd done, not even with Bernard. But…it was kind of nice, once in a while. She was at the very least falling, if not outright in love.

Yet.

* * *

**Two Weeks Later**

* * *

A knock sounded at the door, and since Timmie was still getting dressed, Kon went to answer it. When he opened the door only to reveal Darla Aquila, Kon suddenly became aware of the fact that, while he was dressed, he wasn't wearing socks. Or shoes. Or a belt. And his hair looked exactly like Timmie had been running her fingers through it for upwards of ten minutes while they made out after breakfast. Which she had.

Kon was pretty sure it had to do with the return of Darla's drill sergeant attitude, only in her eyes, and not her voice. "Hello," he said, voice croaking under her steady stare. "Um…c'mon in."

Darla did so, watching him covertly as he locked the door and threw the dead bolt and chain with the ease of practice and familiarity. "Is Tim sick again?" she asked, eyeing him archly.

Kon blinked. "Er, no… Why?" he asked hesitantly, sure that he didn't want to know.

"Because that was the only reason you had been staying over here last time, as I recall," Darla said, sending a pointed look to his barely-dressed form.

"Um, no, Timmie's fine, I'm just…living here." Kon flinched back from the fire and surprise in her eyes, breathing half a sigh of relief as Lacey twined around his ankles, rubbing her scent on him.

Sending the Siamese an amused look as her own ankles were sniffed and then apparently found worthy of being 'scented,' Darla then turned back to Kon once Lacey had ambled away. "I have to talk to Tim about business," she said, "so just…just take it as read," she waved a hand in air illustratively, "that I've given you the speech about how if you hurt her I'll remove your balls from your body slowly, and with a rusty spoon, okay?" She smiled widely, showing shark's teeth, eyes glinting with determination and also a bit of dementia.

Kon would later deny any accusations that he had whimpered like a wuss. "Sure," he squeaked. "Um, Tim's back in the bedroom," he added, and then made tracks for Robin's room, hoping to lose himself and his worries in a quick game of checkers with his pseudo-daughter.

And forget any threats to his family jewels.

* * *

Once the door was closed behind her, Darla wasted no time getting down to business – Tim's business.

Tim's **personal** business.

"He's living here?" Darla said without preamble, or even a 'How do you do?'

"Um…uh…yes?" Tim stuttered, eyes wild with something akin to fear as she backtracked away from her suddenly scary friend. She let out an, "Eeek!" of surprise as she stumbled back onto the freshly made bed.

Darla turned down her glare; she wasn't **mad** at Tim, just upset she hadn't been told about this newest development in her best friend's life. "It wasn't enough that you let him get Robin a cat–"

Tim's confusion was rapidly turning to aggravation. "What does that have to do with–?"

"Or that you moved in with him for three weeks–"

"Two weeks," Tim protested, aggravation moving on to anger. "And it was only because–"

"–the Shriner's convention meant there weren't any free hotel rooms in Gotham," Darla finished for her. "But when – and more importantly, **why** – did Kon – who I'm assuming you're dating, even though you haven't told me – move into** your house**?"

At Darla's question, Tim deflated, realizing that her friend was mostly peeved because she felt like Tim had been keeping secrets from. And in a sense, Tim had been. She hadn't wanted any outside influences to intrude on her idealistic life with Kon, possibly bursting the bubble of her happiness. "I, um, well…" Tim sighed, and twisted a corner of the bedsheet between her hands. "He signed a six month lease…and it ended in April."

"And he couldn't have renewed it?" Darla demanded incredulously.

Looking pained, Tim turned away from Darla's penetrating gaze. "**Yes**, but I…I wanted him here," she admitted in a small voice.

Hardened expression softening, Darla came over to sit besides Tim, laying one hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "Oh, Timmie. You're in love."

"I– No!" Tim denied vehemently, whirling around to face her friend. Her protests were too strenuous – and too immediate – to be true, however. And they both knew it. "I'm…I'm not. I can't be. I…" Here her denial seemed to falter. "I…" She felt it, she knew, she just…couldn't say it.

"You are," Darla stated, tone brooking no arguments.

A long moment passed in silence, then: "Maybe," Tim said. She then proceeded to duck her head and chew on her lower lip, staring at a small stain on the carpet as if spilled cocoa had the answers to all of life's problems – or at least hers.

It wasn't the fact that she felt like she was capable of falling in love again that surprised her, or even that is seemed to be happening with Kon, whom she'd known less than a year. It was that the feelings had blindsided her; it was so unexpected, so sudden that it left her breathless and dizzy. With Bernard the love had grown slow and sure, in addition to their friendship. With Kon, it had happened so fast; an almost instant attraction quickly followed by friendship, and then lust, culminating in…consummation. She'd been in love almost before she even knew it.

It was…nice. Almost paradise, in fact.

For lack of better descriptive wording.

* * *

Tim never mentioned what she and Darla talked about, but Kon noted her blushing looks in his direction, and wondered about them. He and Tim had basically set up 'house' together…but they'd never actually come out as a couple. No one really knew they were dating, though now Darla surely had some idea.

And Bart had to have known; Kon had had to go through him to borrow that truck from the Flash construction company so he could move into Tim's house.

Still, they'd settled into being together, but so far the real world hadn't intruded on their happiness. Maybe it was a mistake to try and hide away from possible problems.

Not like Kon knew what to do differently, but hopefully something would come to him.

And soon.


	9. How Sweet It Is To Be In Love

**How Sweet It Is To Be In Love**

* * *

Timmie had never really given much thought to sex, after Bernard had died. She'd thought about it, certainly, but Robin consumed most of her time, and for a long while, it had just hurt too much to think of who and what she'd lost.

Sex felt good, better with a partner – though she could barely remember it – but Timmie had never spent long sweat-filled nights 'yearning' for the touch of a lover. Romance novels were trite, women's magazines were inane, and she'd never been able to put much stock in the 'information' either contained. Her gynecologist had told her that as far as she'd been able to figure, the G-spot didn't exist, and Tim had found nothing in her explorations of her own body to contradict her. Her nipples, while responsive to touch, weren't sensitive enough to make her come just by touching them, and she'd never been able to achieve multiple orgasms.

But ever since she and Kon had made love that first time, Timmie felt like she couldn't get enough. She would have worried about succumbing to nymphomania if she hadn't been able to steel herself to work, though it did take quite a bit of resolve on her part to separate from Kon for any length of time.

Kon didn't appear to think anything was off about her behavior, so perhaps it was just that they were in the 'honeymoon phase' of their relationship.

Their lovemaking was fantastic and all-around amazing, but Tim certainly hoped that things would slack off eventually, because she and Kon were having sex once in the morning, sometimes twice at night before they went to sleep, and sneaking off to her office during lunch for a quickie practically everyday. Sometimes it seemed like sex was all she could think of.

There was more to her and Kon than sex, wasn't there? Shy glances across meeting tables, holding hands and taking romantic walks in the park, playing board games with Robin in the evening after supper…

But whenever Tim started worrying about the influx of carnal activity in her life, the stress of the working week would give way to the ease of weekends, and calm would come over her. It would be time to put Robin down for her afternoon nap, and things would slow down as she watched her daughter sleep. And if Kon stood with her at those times, watching with her, Tim told herself it was a good thing that her…boyfriend…live-in lover…cared about her daughter.

And she didn't let herself wonder about what it would be like to have this for the foreseeable future. To be with him always, as she'd planned to be with Bernard.

Or to bear his child as well.

* * *

Several weeks passed as Kon grew used to living with Tim, and Tim, in turn, grew used to having someone living with her other than her daughter. Adjustments needed to be made, but they were two (mostly) mature, intelligent people, and were able to talk about things when problems cropped up.

Before Kon knew it, May had flown by, and June was almost there. It had been six months. Six months since that kiss on New Years' Eve, when he and Timmie had started dating.

Kon wondered if he should buy her an anniversary present. Then he decided that it didn't matter if he 'should' or not; he wanted to, to see her face light up with that smile she got whenever he did something nice for her. Or Robin.

It would be hard to top what he'd given Timmie for her birthday, however; he'd seen her wearing the locket practically everyday, on the same chain as her ring. On the days when she didn't wear it, Kon had caught her tucking it into her purse.

Kon thought sometimes that it was odd he didn't feel…jealous of her wearing another man's engagement ring, but he still wore the diamond stud earring Tana had given him to replace his gold hoop after they'd gone to see the re-release of _The Breakfast Club_. Sometimes sentimental value was just that; something physical to hold on to when the memories grew hard to remember. But that's all they were – memories.

You had to live in the present.

Timmie was right there, and Kon wasn't in any danger of forgetting her. Especially not with Robin around. He wondered if maybe he should try and find a babysitter for Robin, so he could surprise Tim with dinner out to a place that was geared towards grown-ups instead of children. Maybe just celebrate simply: get her some flowers, go to that Japanese restaurant where they did souvenir pictures on the bridge over the koi pond.

There were other things he was in danger of forgetting, however, and those things included his impregnable resolve that he would never ever under any circumstances do anything that might be considered pushing, prodding, and/or manipulating a woman in terms of sex. No matter how much he wanted certain things with Tim, he wasn't going to push. Tim was strangely innocent in her own way; she could be cynical about the world around her, but she hadn't let it jade her. She was like Robin in that way, a fount of perpetual hope.

Kon had never thought that he'd ever enjoy dating a woman with a kid so much. He hadn't purposely steered clear of single mothers – not considering his own mother – but he'd never met that many. Tim was the first he'd ever been involved with, and he had to admit that he'd grown closer to Robin before anything serious had happened with Tim, and that was definitely a good thing. If only Timmie was more willing to be alone with him. He loved Robin – he didn't think he could love her more if he'd fathered her – but convincing Timmie that occasionally adults needed alone time was slow going.

Though, she'd always been willing to accede to 'alone time' when…certain things were involved. Namely, sex. And since it was their anniversary, of a sort, Kon felt pretty sure he'd be able to convince her that they should 'celebrate' in the traditional manner.

But despite how…uninhibited Timmie had turned out to be when regarding trying new things in bed (or on the floor…the kitchen table…against the wall…on the couch…in her office…) there was one thing that they hadn't done.

It wasn't that Kon couldn't guess why Timmie was…reluctant…to 'go all the way' as it were, but…well, Kon had enough testosterone coursing through his veins to admit that he really really wanted to…well, making love covered pretty much everything about sex, so…to use the vernacular, Kon wanted to fuck Tim. To feel her clench around him, wet and hot and slick, as he thrust into her, and see her eyes alight with lust as she came. To slip so deep inside her that she'd be able to feel him for days. To join with her so completely that they'd never really part.

It was as he thought about it, that Kon realized what he wanted, wasn't just sex. And it wasn't even 'just' the love that he was sure they shared.

He wanted Timmie to want him…for always.

Kon blinked and slumped back in his chair, uncaring as Lacey jumped into his lap and demanded to be petted. His hand automatically reached out to scratch between her ears, him having been trained well by her.

Despite his seeming awareness of reality, however, Kon's thoughts were focused inward, on his sudden epiphany. He'd gone and fallen in love with Timmie without even realizing it. How the hell had that happened?

* * *

Kon didn't manage to figure it out before their anniversary rolled around, but he decided it didn't matter. He'd thought about telling her that night, but an exchange they'd had after dinner made him decide this was another thing he needed to wait for Tim to be ready for.

It had always puzzled Kon, how people kept thinking that sharing their body with someone was more intimate than sharing their heart. The heart was much more fragile, after all; capable of breaking, and multiple times.

It was also stronger, able to still seek out happiness even after great pain.

"You know how I feel about you, right?" she'd asked him softly as they strolled through the gardens behind the restaurant.

Kon had stopped, drawing her close to him by their joined hands. Looking deep into her blue eyes, Kon had been unable to deny what he felt. He was glad she couldn't, either. "How we both feel…yes," he'd agreed, running his fingers through her hair.

Tim blushed. "Good," she said, then moved into him, linking her arms around his neck and kissing him.

Kon was pretty sure that he needed to wait until she was ready to say the words. He might have become too impatient, but he had a feeling that it would be soon.

And even if she didn't say it…well, she still felt it, and so did he, and they both knew it.

And that was all that mattered.

* * *

Summer was a boom time for the music business, with influxes of new artists and contract renewals. Drake Records was no exception. Kon found himself taking care of Robin a lot more even when they weren't at the office. He didn't mind; he loved Robin. More than that, he liked spending time with her, too.

The only thing that bothered him was that Timmie seemed to think she was…imposing on him by asking him to help take care of her daughter. He knew it was too much to expect – or at least too **soon** – that Tim would want him to be Robin's…other parent, but…

They were all living in the same house, playing happy families, and Kon…Kon felt like Robin's father.

He even had a wallet full of pictures that now featured Robin and Tim to prove it.

Kon just didn't know how to make Tim see it.

* * *

**June 1st**

* * *

It was finally slowing down at Drake Records, and that meant Tim and Kon had some time to relax.

Well, after a fashion. They had to go over her schedule for the rest of the month. But that was easy and required very little effort on either of their parts, and absolutely no stress.

"I have a dinner meeting tonight, so I'm going to need you to take Robin home and watch her," Tim told him as they traded her dayplanner back and forth across her desk.

"Okay," Kon said, marking down a reminder in his own date book to pick up pizza for dinner since they were low on groceries. "You sure you don't need me there?"

Tim shook her head and penciled in a few appointments for the third week of the month, erasing a postponed event on the fifteenth.

"Who's the meeting with?" Kon asked, vaguely curious.

"Bruce Wayne," Tim replied.

Kon's eyes widened. If Lex Luthor owned half of Metropolis, Bruce Wayne owned most of Gotham City. Kon had actually met the man once or twice. Nice enough, but a bit of a flake, though he was, apparently, a shrewd businessman. "What's the meeting about?"

Shrugging, Tim said absently, "He's one of our investors. In the charity part of the business."

Kon nodded; that figured. Wayne had more money than his grandfather, and he spent most of his time finding new charities to donate it to. "Will you be home in time to tell Robin goodnight, or should I try and get her to bed without you?"

Tim paused in her planning, tapping her pencil against her dayplanner as her mouth pursed up in a thoughtful frown. "The meeting's at six…it shouldn't take more than two hours… I should be home in time, but don't let her stay up too late if I'm not."

Kon nodded. "No later than nine-thirty," he agreed, as that was latest that Robin was ever allowed to stay up, barring special events.

* * *

When Tim got home that evening, it was almost nine o'clock. She was exhausted from the long day she'd put in at work, but buzzed with excitement at the same time.

All the same, she was glad to be home. With…her family.

Coming home to the sounds of screams and laughter had not been something she'd expected. Sidestepping Patches and noting that Lucky and Lacey, more mature than her daughter's kitten, had decided to make themselves scarce, Tim wandered through the house, trying to find the cause of the noises.

It was nearly Robin's bedtime, and Tim had no idea why she'd still be up and running around. In bed listening to a story, sure, but she hoped Kon hadn't been spoiling their– her– daughter while she was away…

A child's giggle and a man's deeper growl interrupted her musings, and Tim whirled around to see Robin, freshly bathed and clad only in a pair of purple panties, shoot into the living room. Kon followed more slowly, growling with laughing ferociousness and threatening his small runaway with 'dire' punishments. The front of his T-shirt and shorts were soaked, and he had soap suds in his hair. He clutched Robin's frilly pink nightgown in one hand, menacing her with the other as he chased her around the room.

Timmie thought he had never looked more gorgeous. And Robin…Robin had rarely looked happier.

Her daughter scampered across the tile floor toward her, pausing to look over her shoulder at his pursuer and giggling louder when Kon growled, "And when I catch you, I'm gonna hold you down and…tickle you." Kon lunged forward and grabbed Robin just before she reached Timmie, and swung the laughing, shrieking girl into the air.

Tucked under Kon's arm like a package, Robin tilted her head up and demanded, "Fly, Daddy!" holding her arms out like an airplane.

Kon gave her a startled look – then grinned as he realized that Halloween night hadn't been a fluke. "Up you go, Robin," he said, lifting the little girl above his head. Grinning at the lip-buzzing noise Robin considered appropriate for an airplane engine, but which was really more fitting of a helicopter, Kon caught sight of Timmie, sharing an amazed smile with her.

­_He thinks of her as his daughter, too…doesn't he? _Tim realized, feeling a warm glow start in her heart. She also felt a pang for what might have been, and regretted that Bernard had never gotten to know his daughter, but…

Even though he and Kon were very different men, Tim thought Bernard would have approved of him…and the way he cared about Robin.

And her.

* * *

"So…anything happen tonight at your meeting?" Kon asked as they were getting ready for bed, finally having gotten Robin clothed and tucked in. It had taken Kon longer to convince Robin it was okay for him to see her naked than it had for him to give her her bath, and he was worn out, even though it was only ten.

"Yes," Timmie replied, tugging her bra off, and then pulling her T-shirt on over her head, barely even noticing Kon's lascivious look at her momentarily bared breasts. "We've been invited to the annual Wayne Family Foundation Ball," she told him, barely able to contain her excitement.

"We?" Kon asked, pulling back the covers on the bed even as he processed the information. The WFF Ball was **the** premier event of the year, even bigger than the Emmys, the Oscars, and only second to the Olympics. He'd gone as his mother's date twice in the past, and found it boring.

Of course, he'd been eight and twelve respectively at those times, and hopefully maturity – and the realization that cheese and spinach quiche and champagne were really quite good – would give him a new experience.

"Well, me 'and guest.' It's on August 11th this year, and I know we don't have plans…" Tim bit her lip and, as she climbed into bed, asked, "Don't you…I mean, do you want to go with me?" She carefully looked away from him as she plucked at the pale green sheet.

"Yeah, of course," Kon told her, scooting nearer to her side and kissing her cheek. "Have to make sure all those eligible bachelors don't think that you're up for grabs." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

Tim looked amused instead of indignant at his behavior, which was one of the things Kon loved about her. She was perfectly able to take care of herself, but didn't mind Kon's occasional possessive tendencies. She was just as possessive of him. "Going to mark your territory?"

"If you'll let me," Kon murmured into her ear, mouthing her neck. He didn't realize all the many different ways those words could be taken, but at Timmie's sharp intake of breath, Kon realized that he would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

Even if the marks would fade, their memories of them wouldn't.

* * *

**August 11th**

* * *

Timmie frowned in the mirror as she squirmed in her dress. It was yet another variation on the typical 'little black dress'; what she wore to most of the events she attended for Drake Records. She'd just had this one – satin, with velvet trim – fitted a few months ago as her purchase during spring for fall events, and already it was too tight. The zipper would zip up, but it left her looking like she'd been shrink-wrapped while she was wearing it, and that was not at all professional.

Resolving to take the matter up with her tailor at a later date, Tim wiggled her way out of the dress. Sighing in a mix of frustration at her circumstances, and relief at finally removing the too-tight satin from her body, Timmie went to paw through her closet for something else suitable to wear to the opening. She'd sent Kon on ahead, since he was going to pick up Darla from the airport and bring her back to watch Robin for the night.

Catching sight of a dress she hadn't worn in a few years, since Darla's disastrous attempts to get her out into the dating scene, Timmie almost flipped past it – but something made her stop. She'd last worn that dress when she'd finally realized that she needed to at least **try** to move on after losing Bernard. Darla had told her she'd looked 'smoldering' in it, and Bruce Wayne's younger son Jason had told her she was 'drop dead gorgeous.' That trial run of attractive apparel had only lasted a few months; she'd attracted attention, all right, but almost always of the wrong kind. And those kinds of clothes weren't really her, anyway.

Tim told herself that she **wasn't** wondering what Kon would think when he saw her in it.

If. If he saw her in it.

Tim sighed. Who was she kidding? She was quickly falling head over heels for Kon, and she was the only one who was even still **trying** to delude herself over that.

Taking another look at the satin and silk almost-strapless gown in her closet, Tim nodded decisively. She pulled it out, hung it on the mirror, and then went hunting in her closet for matching shoes, mentally going through her jewelry box for appropriate accessories. She remembered that because of its unique design, that dress had required the purchase of some special undergarments, ones that wouldn't show. They took forever to wiggle her way into, however, and the garters were unutterably difficult to work with.

But they were worth it for the effect the entire outfit had on the male libido. One **specific** male in this case.

Tim had to be quick about changing, though; she had a date to keep.

* * *

The ballroom was jam-packed with people. Elegant women in colorful dresses mingled and chatted with dashing men in tuxedos. A gold and crystal chandelier glittered above the dance floor and a carved wood balcony ran around a mezzanine level of the room. Heavy blooms of purple orchids and golden roses overflowed from strategically placed vases, adding to the air's perfume.

Even in a room full of beautiful people, Timothea Drake stood out.

Her dress was a deep red wine color, silky soft and velvety. It clung to her curves, tantalizing in all its angles, sliding off the shoulder with sleeves that bared most of her arms, save for the few ribbons tying the sleeves in place. The bodice was satin, fitted like a corset, and strapped up the front with velvet ribbons like one, too. The filmy skirt hung in a waterfall of overlaid panels from her waist, her legs alternately revealed and concealed as she walked. She wore sparkly, strappy close-toed sandals on her feet, ones with sensibly low heels, and rubies winked at her neck and ears. Her hair was done up in two braids, woven with a dark red satin ribbon to bind them in a coronet around her head, a few wispy, short curls showing at her temples and the nape of her neck.

She was simply stunning.

Kon, who had been waiting anxiously for her arrival next to the punch bowl, suddenly found himself with champagne on his shoes. His entire body felt nerveless, and his grip on his glass loosened, the champagne flute having tipped enough to shower him with its contents.

Kon coughed to cover his embarrassment, placed his now half-empty glass on the table and discreetly shook the excess champagne off his shoe underneath cover of the table. When he turned around to start a nonchalant stroll away from 'the scene of the crime' as it were, he almost ran head-on into Tim.

Only she wasn't Tim, or even Timmie. A woman that elegantly divine deserved no less than Timothea.

Kon never had thoughts like that unless he was in love. It had been so long since that had been the case, however, that he'd forgotten how much of a romantic sap he could be, even if only within his own mind.

"Kon," Tim said, and he blushed at her questioning look, realizing that he must have spaced out for a bit.

"Tim," Kon said, mentally congratulating himself on the fact that his voice didn't crack.

"Sorry I'm late," Tim told him. "I…decided to wear a different dress."

And if Kon had ever had any thoughts against Tim's habit of actually offering explanations for things, they would all have been erased at her words. Because Tim could definitely be late for anything if she was going to dress like **that**.

Not that she couldn't wear a chicken costume and still own his heart; his libido, on the other hand…

"It's a nice dress," Kon told her, voice husky with want. He cleared his throat, trying to come up a better descriptive term. "But you make it look beautiful."

Tim's face flushed, eyes lowering with badly concealed pleasure at his compliment. Sometimes, even when he didn't think, Kon could **still** come up with the right thing to say.

* * *

Later in the evening, after numerous networking chats with other partygoers, and several trips to the buffet for quiche, fudge, punch, and other assorted snack foods, Kon met up with Tim near the dance floor, both of them finally able to catch their breath and just enjoy the party for a moment, instead of talking business.

"Been busy tonight, huh?" Kon said, for lack of any other conversation opener.

"Definitely," Tim agreed. "I'm glad for the breather."

"Me too."

A few minutes passed in a companionable silence as they hung back near an oasis of palm fronds. The soft music playing in the background segued from the top hits of pop rock into an assortment of instrumental ballads. Ones, Kon thought, that were suitable for slow dancing. "Would you like to dance?" Kon asked, arm held out akimbo for her to take.

Tim grinned and laid one strong hand daintily on his outstretched arm. "I'd love to," she said, and moments later they were smiling and blushing their way through a waltz. Tim kept trying to lead, and Kon kept forgetting how the steps went, but neither of them cared.

_Unchained Melody _ended, and something with a deeper beat started. Kon thought he remembered it from a movie; it took him until the chorus to recognize it as the _Top Gun _theme.

They swayed back and forth to the music, not even bothering to actually dance. They were just enjoying being in each other's arms.

With the light flush of happiness on her face, eyes shining, lips curved up in a smile…Timothea Drake really did take his breath away.

She wasn't just wearing an eye-popping dress, however. Her perfume was equally as captivating, heady and musky, and reminding Kon intensely of what she smelled like when she was aroused, only sweeter, and less earthy.

Kon wanted to remedy that difference **right that very instant**.

"What **is** that intoxicating fragrance?" Kon asked, sniffing (hopefully) surreptitiously of said smell. He didn't usually talk like that unless he was trying to be suave/debonair/**romantic**, but the scent she was wearing really was that intriguing. Its effects reminded him of the few times he'd tried pot in college, making him feel high and floaty.

"I, um…it's not perfume, it's just my lotion, it's…brown s-sugar and f-fig," Timmie replied, stuttering as he nuzzled at her neck. She let out a shuddery breath, eyes falling closed. "K-Kon, you need to move **back**."

"Why?" Kon groaned in reluctance, even as he did so, looking down into her eyes instead of up into them. He hadn't been near enough all evening to really get a good whiff of whatever scent Tim was wearing, and he wanted to drink in his fill.

Tim whimpered, pupils widening from arousal and something like panic. "You're too close."

Kon just raised a brow.

Tim blushed. "You practically had your **face** buried in my **cleavage**," she hissed under her breath, casting furtive eyes around the dance floor to make sure no one would see them. Or **had** seen what Kon had just been doing.

Even taken aback, Kon's rapier wit was sharp. "I thought you like it when I did." Even as he spoke, he moved back to dance a more decorous distance from her.

"Not in a room full of people." Tim's smile was tight with strain – the strain of holding back the lust he could see banked in burning embers in her eyes.

Kon felt his mouth go drier than a desert. Licking his lips, he asked hoarsely, "When can we leave?" Normally he wouldn't be so forward, but…he got the feeling she liked it.

And nothing about that night felt normal.

Tim sighed, her hands tensing on his arms, obviously feeling it, too. "Not…not for another hour."

"Fuck."

"Not until we leave," Tim replied, and then blushed at her faux pas. "I mean…" She sighed and snuggled closer to him, obviously giving in to the inevitable. "One hour. Once this dance is over I'll go network and you…try to keep from distracting me."

Kon swallowed, feeling her chin settle right over his breastbone, above his heart. "Yeah, I'll…do that."

* * *

The drive back to their house was filled with long sideways glances culminating in shared grins as they realized how infatuated they were acting.

The party had run late enough that it was the next morning, and Darla had bedded down on the very same couch that Kon had used that week so long ago. Tiptoeing past her with stifled laughter, they quickly checked on Robin, just watching her sleep for a long moment before they could no longer keep their attraction in check.

As soon as the door to Robin's room was closed, Kon latched onto her, lips to lips, his hand pulling her towards their bedroom, both of them stumbling a bit as they weren't able to watch where they were going.

They were not strangers to kissing each other, but they had never hungered for one another's mouths as much as they did then. Every taste they got left only more desire in its wake, building to a higher and higher peak until they broken apart with panting gasps and strangled mewls. They fell into bed together, tearing off each other's clothes with abandon. They both became so impatient with how long it took to get Tim's dress off that by silent accord they agreed to leave her in her stockings and garters.

At least for the first round.

* * *

_For the full, NC-17 ending to this chapter, please go here: www. squidge. org/(tilde)peja/ cgi-bin/ viewstory.php(question mark)sid(equal sign)32541_

* * *

She was in love with Kon. In love…

And it was wonderful.

They lay there, panting in the afterglow – or, considering her tingling exhaustion, more like after**math** – just holding each other. Kon's cock eventually shrank enough to slip out of her without his pulling back, and Tim didn't even have time to mourn the loss of his touch before Kon was kissing her again. She really didn't have the breath for it, but Kon kept giving her brief, light pecks, and the constant touch reassured her of his continued presence; her thundering heart finally settled down, breathing a soft counterpoint to its slow thud.

It was a while before either of them roused themselves enough to get up and get ready for bed. Ironic that they would have to get **out** of bed to get ready for it, Tim thought, but she really didn't want to sleep in her stockings.

And she needed a moment alone, to come to terms with everything. The sex, the love, Kon's place in her life.

Even good changes took some getting used to.

Kon tied off and threw away the condom while Tim gathered up her nightclothes. Then he set to tracking down the bits and pieces of their clothes and putting them away as Tim headed into the bathroom to clean up. A few cursory passes with a wet washcloth got rid of the most of the stickiness, though only time would take care of the lingering soreness.

Tim pulled on her usual nighttime attire of an oversized T-shirt and panties, pausing on her way back out the door to look in the mirror. Her body was a deep rosy tan color, flushed from her recent lovemaking, and there were a few bite marks and bruises scattered on her skin from Kon's teeth and hands, but otherwise, she didn't look much different than she ever did – after she and Kon had been making love.

But the way she felt…

A grin quirked her lips, and she shook her head, before slipping back out to the bedroom. The real change had been inside of her, allowing her to finally admit what she felt for Kon.

If only to herself.

"Hey," Kon said, greeting her with a kiss as she came back to bed. He'd changed into his typical summer sleepwear of a pair of clean boxer shorts, gray flannel ones, soft and smooth against her heated skin. "You okay?" His voice was soft, but seemed almost too loud in the comfortable quiet they'd settled into.

Tim didn't even blush at his question, that was how at peace she felt with what had happened. "Yeah. I feel great," she told him honestly, even as the hazy warm glow that had fogged up her brain receded enough to let her know that she'd hadn't 'lost' her virginity without a few aches and pains to remember it by. She felt a twinge low in her belly, and even though it hurt a bit, Tim also remembered how it had felt to hold Kon inside of her, and that memory was enough to make everything worth it.

His smile was soft as took her hand in his. "I'm glad."

"Me…me too." She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I…I love you, Kon."

Even in the darkness of the room, Tim could see his smile light up. "Oh, Timmie… I love you, too."


	10. Enjoying The Consequences

**Enjoying The Consequences**

* * *

Kon had planned for a very boring, tedious afternoon; tax season was nearing, and he needed to sort through the files for everything he needed to send down to Accounting. And Tim was stuck in her office on the phone with the accountants, going over every file Kon gave her. They'd barely had a moment alone together all week.

At work, at least. At home…well, their ardor for each other certainly hadn't dimmed after exchanging those three little words. If anything, it had increased, inhibitions unfettered. They'd by necessity curtailed their lunchtime quickies, however.

In fact, at that current moment in time, half past noon on a Tuesday, Kon was on his knees, head stuck in the filing cabinet, wondering if they had enough milk in the refrigerator to make mac and cheese for dinner and have some left over for cereal the next morning when he heard someone clear their throat only a few feet away from him. It came as such a surprise that he banged his head on the open drawer above him. Stifling curses and rising to his feet, Kon turned around and came to face to face with an older man in dress slacks and a pale blue polo shirt, hair graying slightly at the temples.

"Um…can I help you?" Kon asked, shoving a hand through his hair and wincing as the hand came away dusty and with a pink Post-It note attached. He tried to throw the sticky note away, but it wouldn't let go of his hands.

The man hid a smile at Kon's predicament. "I'm here to see Tim," he replied.

Finally Kon managed to get rid of the thing, and he dropped with a sigh into his chair. "Do you have an appointment?" Kon asked, even as he scanned the roster for that day; he didn't see anyone penciled in, but maybe this guy was that investor arrived early.

He shook his head. "No, I thought I'd just go on in."

Kon blinked. One of the very first things he'd learned while working for his mother as a gofer was that you couldn't let just anyone into the boss's office. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, sir." You had to be unfailingly polite, however. Just in case the guy in overalls and a John Deere Tractor hat turned out to have more money than most deities and wanted to invest it with your firm.

Not-investor-but-still-possibly-important guy smirked. "Oh, I think you can, young man," he replied drolly.

"Really?" Kon hid a grin at the man's seeming audacity. "Why is that?"

The man's smirk widened. "Because Timmie is my daughter," he said with an elegant arch of one eyebrow.

Kon froze, and then eyed the man from top to bottom. The man…Jack Drake. "Oh," he squeaked. He looked again, finally placing the face. "Sorry I didn't recognize you, but most of the pictures in Tim's office are of Robin," he said, his shock causing him to speak more familiarly of his boss to her father than he would have otherwise. She really only had one with her parents, and it was a group shot.

Jack Drake looked amused. "Most of the pictures in my wallet are of Tim." He gave a one-shoulder shrug. "It's a parent thing."

"I'll take your word for it," Kon said, still slightly shell-shocked at having finally met his…girlfriend's…father. He could believe it very easily, though. He remembered his mother's wallet having several pictures of him, but he thought Clark's had been divided mostly between his parents and Lois, with one baby picture of himself in Lena's arms, and a high school yearbook photo.

And he had quite a few pictures of Tim and Robin in his wallet, too. "Um, I'll just…" Kon waved toward the intercom, feeling more awkward than he had since puberty. He pressed the button and cleared his throat. "Uh, Miss Drake? Your father is here to see you."

There was a clattering noise, and after a few moments, Tim replied, "Send him in."

On the surface she sounded her usual controlled self, but underneath Kon could hear how startled she really was. "Uh…" Kon waved towards Tim's office door. "I'm…sure you know where it is." It had used to be his office, hadn't it?

After giving him a look, Jack said, "Yes, yes, I do," and ambled away.

Kon didn't breathe until Jack Drake was out of sight. The 'meet the parents' thing was nerve-wracking even when they didn't **know**.

Maybe especially so.

* * *

**One Week Later**

* * *

It was even more nerve-wracking to just stand by and watch while someone you loved was in pain. Kon didn't need ESP to know that Timmie wasn't feeling well. She'd barely made it out of the bathroom the first time before she'd had to turn around and run right back in, reaching the toilet just in time to start retching on her then-empty stomach.

The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her, kneeling on the forest green bathmat as she leaned forward, clutching the toilet bowl. She was seemingly unable to stop the dry heaves, despite the fact that there was nothing left to come up, not even bile. Wincing, Kon filled one of the sink-side Dixie cups with water and grabbed a washcloth from the linen closet before kneeling beside her. Kon then pressed his free hand gently against the small of her back, having figured from past experience that Tim didn't like people being around her when she was sick. Keeping his touch comforting and light, Kon let his other hand brush back the hair that was sticking to her sweaty brow.

Tim took a shuddering breath, and valiantly fought the need to heave some more. Her skin had gone from hot and flushed to cold and clammy, the sweat beading on her brow and neck almost icy. Kon's gentle touch helped calm her, though, and after a few moments had passed she was strong enough to pull back and sit on her heels, letting out a shaky sigh.

Kon didn't lose a moment and offered her the glass of water, waiting patiently as Tim rinsed and spat into the toilet. He then dampened the washcloth in the remaining water and wiped her clammy face, calming her, before he pulled her to him, wrapping her in a warm embrace as she slowly sank towards him.

When Tim was ready she pushed away from Kon slightly, looking into his eyes with a mixture of gratitude and weariness. "Thanks," she said.

Kon shrugged with the arm not supporting her, uncomfortable with Tim's unusual effusiveness. "There's no need to thank me, Timmie," he said. "You know that. I'm always here for you." He placed a quick kiss behind her right ear.

"I know." Tim flushed slightly as she stroked the just-kissed spot with trembling fingers. She liked him touching her, but she still felt nauseous. "It's just that…well, I'm not normally sick like this. I can't remember the last time I felt this bad." Her eyes widened slightly as a memory came to the forefront of her mind – making itself known with all the force of a ton of bricks.

"You know something," Kon said, sure of it.

Timmie gave him a half-hearted smile and nodded skittishly. "I think…maybe." More than maybe…all the signs were there, and she'd **lived** it before.

"Maybe what?" Kon asked, careful to keep his voice gentle.

"I…I remember feeling like this…being tired, and getting sick in the mornings…when…" Tim paused to take a breath for courage, then rushed on to say, "…when I was pregnant with Robin."

Time seemed to stop as Kon looked at his lover, his mind needing time to process what she had just suggested. Tim's wide, uncertain eyes were enough to tell him that he wasn't the only one with the problem.

"Uh, Tim…did you just say what I think you said?" She was…pregnant? Not to go all Keanu Reeves, but 'Whoa.'

She nodded hesitantly. It occurred to her that she had to have been near the end of the first trimester if she was experiencing morning sickness, but she and Kon had only started having penetrative sex not even a month earlier. Which meant, once again, she was living an after school special. Or maybe just a _Lifetime _movie of the week. "Yeah." She was quick to add, "But it isn't a certainty, I could just have the flu again, and–"

"And I wouldn't be unhappy either if you were pregnant," Kon cut in. From what little Tim had told him, raising Robin on her own had taken quite a toll on her, mentally, physically, and especially emotionally. She'd had just as much support from her parents as his mother had with him, but Tim was obviously doubtful about going through single motherhood again.

There was no way he was going to be anything like his father. "Have you, uh, missed any periods?" Kon asked, fighting down the awkwardness brought about by the topic.

Tim shook her head, blushing. "I don't…um, I've been on birth control, so I didn't have any. Very often… But I did…this last month, and it was really light. But…" She wrung her hands helplessly. "Even before I started…I was never regular, and even less so when I've been working a lot, so I didn't really think anything of it." Just like she hadn't thought anything of it when she'd been pregnant with Robin.

Until her step-mother had dragged her to see the doctor.

At that thought, Tim remembered that at her last OB-GYN appointment, her doctor had advised her to switch birth control methods because the Depo-Provera shot wasn't recommended for more than two years. She'd been using it for three. So Tim had gotten a prescription for the once-weekly birth control pill. Unfortunately, as she had known would happen, between Robin and her job and now Kon, she'd forgotten to take the pills more often than not. Actually, she couldn't remember having taken one for weeks.

Tim had, in effect, been having (occasionally) unprotected sex for almost seven months.

Considering how fecund she was, it shouldn't exactly have been a surprise that she was pregnant. If ever the Christian Coalition needed a poster girl for their 'The Evils of Premarital Sex' campaign, she'd fit the bill. "And…oh, God, I haven't been taking my pills," she said in horror.

"So…you think you're pregnant," Kon summed up. He was pretty sure that pregnancy didn't start severely affecting the female body until after at least a month. Surely Timmie wouldn't be experiencing morning sickness unless she was a couple months along, which meant…

Well, it obviously didn't matter if she'd taken her pills or not; Timmie's uterus would have been better suited to a rabbit.

Tim nodded miserably. She should have been more responsible; she should at least have made sure Kon used a condom each time, instead of assuring him that she was protected and not bringing it up when that changed. Timmie had wanted…she'd had thoughts about having Kon's baby, but she should never have let those unconscious desires affect her actions. Especially without consulting Kon, considering he was…he was…

He was holding onto her as if he was afraid she'd pull away. And he was looking at her like…not smiling exactly, but he was…he wasn't **un**happy.

"I…" Kon cleared his throat and pulled her closer to him, her nightshirt rucking up around her thighs and exposing her legs to the chill tile floor. "I, um, want to be here for you, if you are. Or, you know, if you aren't." He looked into her scared eyes and his voice deepened in register as she said, "I…I love you, Timmie."

Tim's breath had already been rather short from both sickness and mild panic, but Kon's pronouncement completely shocked her senseless. They'd said the words that once, and a few times since then, but it still made her heart skip a beat to hear him say them. "I…you…me…"

One half of Kon's mouth quirked up in a grin. "Yeah…you and me." He laid a hand on her still-flat stomach. "And baby makes three…plus Robin."

Licking dry lips, Tim grimaced at the aftertaste of bile. Then she smiled tentatively at Kon. "Um…okay?" she offered in a squeakily weak voice.

Kon looked at her uncomprehendingly. "Okay?"

"Okay," she confirmed. "I, um…I would like it if you were here for me, Kon." As if there was really any other choice. She loved him, he loved her, they were…living together. So of course they'd raise their baby together.

"Yeah?" Kon smiled widely.

Tim smiled back. "Yeah."

* * *

**One Month Later**

* * *

Timothea Drake was a nervous wreck. It was only Tuesday, and already she'd handled a minor merger with a small Indie record label for Drake Records, enrolled her daughter in a prestigious preschool, had a last-minute fit-in appointment with her OB-GYN to check on her pregnancy, and now…

Now she had to figure out how to tell her parents about that last. The first time she'd been pregnant, the situation surrounding everything had demanded that they not get too upset with her, and be supportive instead. This time, however, Kon was alive – and he had better stay that way – and they weren't engaged, and her father and Dana had never even really **met** Kon, she'd certainly never introduced him to them as her…boyfriend, and…

And she really needed to find a different comfort food than Twinkies, Tim realized as she started down at the now empty box of snack cakes in her hand, the top of her desk littered with wrappers. She'd just shoved the trash in her wastebasket when Kon came in with her mid-morning cup of tea.

Tim couldn't help but think that she would really like another Twinkie to go with it. She would have been worried about this 'food phase' she was going through, but if her second pregnancy was anything like her first, she knew that she needed to eat while she could. During the third month she had morning sickness, but was able to eat by around noon or so. The fourth month heralded 'afternoon' sickness which would keep her from keeping much down, and by the fifth month the sickness would be gone, and she could go back to eating on a regular schedule.

In the meantime, perhaps she should invest in a supply of granola bars to store in her desk. They'd definitely be better for her than Twinkies.

If only telling her parents would be as easy as telling Robin. They'd had to dance around just **how** the 'baby got in Mama's tummy' but other than that, Robin seemed perfectly fine with having a younger sibling around Valentine's Day.

"Hey, baby," Kon greeted her, dropping a kiss on her forehead as he placed her tea in front of her. "Hey, baby," he repeated in a softer voice, stroking a hand across the barely visible swell of her belly.

Tim was only in her fifteenth week, so she shouldn't even be showing that much. She couldn't help but be charmed by his behavior, however. "I've been eating too many sweets," she muttered, blushing. "Or maybe the baby's just been too hungry."

Kon's appreciative gaze slipped down her body, taking in the subtle enhancement of her curves. "It doesn't seem to have hurt you any."

His voice was like a warm caress on her skin. Breathless, she lifted her gaze to look at him – and promptly lost herself in his eyes. "Kon…"

"Tim…" Kon purred, and leaned down to kiss her. It started slow, Kon wanting the kiss to equal the wonder of having Timmie in his life. He touched his lips gently to her, his tongue tasting her lower lip, swallowing Timmie's whimper as she pressed up against him.

Tim moaned as licks of electricity raced through her body. Kissing Kon felt better than anything. She deepened the kiss, her tongue invading Kon's mouth, body pressing against Kon's.

They spent the next hour in a delightfully lustful haze, sounds of pleasure ricocheting off Tim's office walls.

And she completely forgot about Twinkies.

* * *

Tim tried to contact her parents for a solid week, but between her work and downed phone lines overseas, and the problems with trying to reach a couple celebrating their second honeymoon with a vacation cruise, she never managed to get in touch with them. Then Robin started school, and Tim's hormones – it **wasn't** anything else, because she **wasn't** an overprotective mother – caused her to cry when she had to leave her daughter, and not even hugs from Kon made her feel better.

Well, much.

Then her 'afternoon sickness' kicked in – Tim had been sincerely hoping that she would skip that this time around – and what with everything that was going on, it was no surprise that she…forgot to tell her parents she was pregnant again. Or forgot that she **hadn't** told them, since everyone else she was close to already knew.

Kon was confused as to why he hadn't received an irate phone call from Dana Drake, or had Jack Drake come bust down his door and harangue him for knocking up his daughter, but he resolved to let Tim handle her parents. He'd called his grandparents after Tim's first ultrasound, faxing them a copy of the picture. They were thrilled with the news about their incipient second great-grandchild (Robin being the first, of course). Kon had also made arrangements to inform his mother the next time he made it to Metropolis.

He was just waiting for Timmie to feel up to traveling. Currently Timmie was unable to keep much of anything down. She seemed to subsist on a diet of soda crackers, apple juice, and pears, supplemented by the occasionally bowl of minestrone soup for lunch. If she hadn't been taking so many prenatal vitamins, Kon would have been severely worried about her health.

As it was, he was only mildly concerned.

Thankfully, Tim's inability to eat anything passed quickly – quicker than it had before, she told him – and Tim was soon back up to snuff. Currently, she was in fine form – **very** fine form, in Kon's opinion, pregnancy having accentuated the already fabulous body with which she'd been blessed – and working harder than ever in preparation for when the baby arrived.

Timmie had only just finished her plans to hand the business over to several executives during her maternity leave, when her 'nesting' instinct kicked in. Kon soon found himself spending his spare time painting the empty bedroom next to theirs a pale shade of sea foam green, and tacking on a border with pastel blocks while Tim made up lists of what they'd need to buy for the coming baby; everything from diapers and wipes to clothes and toys was clearly delineated on her list, along with quantities and when they'd need to purchase them.

She was so busy working on preparing for the baby that she almost forgot Kon's birthday. Would have, if not for Robin reminding her. She spent a frantic few hours piecing together a collage from Robin's old baby pictures, only to have Kon tell her that their baby was enough of a present for the next ten years.

She cried when he said that, but Kon didn't think anything of it. Timmie had been working so hard, in fact, that Kon also put her occasional temper tantrums off to stress and lack of sleep. Apparently, the many pregnancy and baby books he'd been reading hadn't gotten it through his thick skull that mood swings were pretty much par for the course.

* * *

Having somehow managed to convince herself that the amount of crying she'd done during her third trimester was due to realizing that Bernard's loss meant her child would never known her father, and not hormones, Timmie found herself surprised when she broke down in Kon's arms one night after he told her he forgot to pick up milk on the way home.

It was a stupid little thing, but there were always a lot of stupid little things happening, and the distress built up inside her, coming out of her eyes in tears and her mouth in sobs.

"I'm sorry, I just feel so…" Tim sniffled against Kon's chest, wincing inwardly as she realized his shirt was soaked with her tears.

Kon just squeezed her tighter to him, not letting her go. "Don't be sorry, baby; just let it out," he murmured into her hair. "I'm here for you."

"You are?" Tim croaked out, not even knowing what she was really asking. It was pretty obvious that Kon was there; he was holding her, after all.

"Yes. And I always will be," Kon promised her.

Her tears were starting to subside, but Tim didn't let go of him, not wanting to lose the contact. "Tell me?" Tim asked, wanting to hear more of those tender declarations. Bernard had been wonderful to her, but there'd been a distinct lack of any kind of romance during her first pregnancy, and she found herself soaking up every single loving touch and word that Kon would give her. And there were quite a lot of them.

"You know, Timmie, I think that I…I fell in love with you almost from the moment I first met you," Kon told her. "There was this…connection." It was true; he'd never been so viscerally attracted to a woman from first sight. It had been more than base lust, though it had taken him a while to realize why he liked Timmie so much. She just…fit him. "It wasn't…I mean, it wasn't love at first sight or anything, but I definitely felt something more for you than friendship.

"Really?" Tim asked, not quite able to believe in even 'like at first sight.' Lust, maybe…she'd been extremely attracted to Kon when she'd first met him, and keeping herself from letting it show had meant she was a bit more abrupt with him than she had been with the other candidates for the job.

Of course, the other candidates had all been…lacking.

"Mm-hm." Kon nodded. "And I feel the same way about Robin. Well, not the exact same way, but I liked her from the moment I met her."

"You did?"

"Yup. And…" Kon took her hand in his, relieved to see the curious blue eyes staring up into his own were drier then. "From the moment you said you loved me, too, I've wanted nothing more than to have children with you, to give Robin a baby brother or sister. At this moment in time, I am the happiest man on Earth."

As Kon spoke, more unshed tears brightened Timmie's eyes. She smiled, and gently stroked the side of his face. "You have such a way with words, Kon. I…can't tell you how much you mean to me. It's like…being with you is stronger than me alone."

Kon smiled as he saw the truth behind Timmie's words.

Timmie brought her lips closer, almost touching Kon's, but not quite, letting him take the lead.

And Kon took it with alacrity, leaning forward the scant bit needed to softly kiss her. He kissed her again and this time held it a bit longer. His tongue traced the outline of her lips.

Timmie moaned at the sensations that Kon was creating within her. From sorrow to arousal in fifteen minutes; her hormones had a lot to answer for.

But later. Of their own volition, Tim's hands began an exploration of Kon's upper body; his muscular arms, his broad shoulders, his well-built chest, never minding the dampness left behind from her recent cryfest. Her hands buried themselves in his thick, dark hair and pulled him closer. Tim groaned; she could feel the heat of his body responding to her soft caresses. Her breath quickened. She whispered against his mouth, "You love me, Kon? And Robin, and…the baby?" She knew it, she just needed to hear him say it sometimes.

Especially as her hormones surged with her pregnancy.

"I do," Kon swore, with all his heart.

Her eyes sparkled with renewed happiness. "How much?"

Kon answered the only way he could. He showed her.


	11. Matrimonial Bliss

**Matrimonial Bliss**

* * *

"We need to start thinking of names," Tim said one Tuesday morning over brunch. She was almost five months along, so she thought it was high time they got down to it. Robin was at the park with Bart and Darla, and they were both taking the day off from work, so they had time.

"Um…you have any in mind?" Kon asked, more than a bit nervous and trying to stall for time. In truth, since Tim had so much more experience with parenting, he'd been willing to defer to her on almost all counts.

He'd switch her morning tea to decaf without telling her. He didn't want to get into an argument over it.

"Well, it occurred to me we could go with a theme…" Tim proposed.

"A theme? Like what?"

Tim shrugged. In truth, she wasn't entirely sure she liked the idea of matching names for her kids. She'd always hated the idea of twins with rhyming names. "Like…all names that start with 'R.'" That wouldn't be too bad, she thought. _Robert? Richard? I think that's Bruce Wayne's eldest son's name… And I'm not letting any child of mine end up with the nickname 'Dick.'_

Kon grinned wickedly. "Or all names that are birds," he suggested. "Hm…let's see, we have Robin, and there's Raven or Wren for a girl…or Lark. And Jay or Martin for a boy." At her scandalized expression, he mused, "How about Jay for a boy and Lark for a girl?"

Timmie snorted, sensing that her hopes for a productive afternoon were about to be dashed. Kon seemed to want to play, rather than be serious. But maybe some ideas would come of it. Just because she'd known what she wanted to name Robin almost from the first moment she'd been able to really think coherently about her pregnancy, didn't mean this pregnancy would be the same. After all, the circumstances were certainly different.

"How about…Jason for a boy and…and Skyler for a girl?" Tim replied, obviously plucking the names out of thin air. She vaguely recalled that Bruce's other son's name was Jason, but it wasn't like she spent any real time with the Waynes.

Kon considered them, however. "Jason Drake Kent or Skyler Kent Drake…I like it," he decided.

Tim smiled softly, cocking her head to the side as she gave the names some thought. "Hmm…I do, too. But if it's a girl we'll give her a different middle name." She was pleased that Kon wanted to include both of their last names; in truth, she'd already decided to give them hers, so the new baby and Robin would match. 'Kent' would make a nice middle name for a boy, however. For a girl…perhaps 'Constance.' Or 'Catherine' in honor of her mother.

"So…we've decided on names?" Kon asked, blinking a bit. He'd been **joking** about birds. "That's…all there is to it?"

"We'll change our minds a hundred times between now and the birth, but I think those two will stick," Tim said, mindful that she'd had experience with this part of parenting before and Kon hadn't. It had been that way with Robin. If she'd been a boy, his name would have been Bernard Robin, Jr. A bit prosaic, true, but Tim had wanted a reminder of the love of her life.

_I wonder if you can have two soulmates?_ Tim thought, realizing that what she felt for Kon was just as deep and abiding as the love she'd felt for Bernard.

Had felt. In the past tense. And it didn't hurt as much as she thought it should have to realize that she'd…finally moved on. She'd gotten past the hurt, and now the memories…were all good ones.

"Hmm?" Tim asked, realizing that she'd been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't heard Kon's question.

"I was just asking what you thought we'll have," Kon repeated. "A boy or a girl?"

Tim shrugged. "Girls are slightly more common, but that doesn't mean anything."

"Mmm."

"I was really surprised when Robin was born," Tim reflected, a wistful smile on her face. "I'd…well, I'd actually kind of dreaded that she might look like Bernard, but when I first saw her…" She'd **wanted** a reminder of Bernard, something – someone, rather – to remember him by, but had worried that maybe it would be too much for her to see him in their child all the time.

Luckily, it hadn't been. Robin was–

"She was perfect," Kon finished knowingly.

Tim blushed. "Yeah." She was aware that she sometimes spoke of Bernard with…well, reverence, and more than a bit of longing. She'd never be able to say that there wasn't a part of her that would always love him, but…Bernard was dead. She wasn't.

And now she had Kon.

Tim just hoped that Kon didn't eventually get tired of – or worse, upset about – hearing her talk about Bernard. "What do you think our children will be like?" she asked, turning the question around on him, sensing that this had been on Kon's mind for a while.

It was only after she spoke that she realized she'd used the plural in regards to their future offspring.

Kon pretended to ponder that question for a moment, when in reality, he already knew the answer. "Well, I think our kids'll have dark hair, curly like yours, with big, beautiful blue eyes, smiles that can light up a room, and…freckles," he decided with a nod of his head and a smile at Tim's eye-roll. She didn't understand Kon's captivation with her freckles. Though she did agree that Robin's dimples were adorable. "They'll be strong, and tough when it counts, and very loving, with a very sarcastic sense of humor, and of course, they'll be extremely smart." He pulled her a bit more closely to him. "In other words, perfect. Just like you," he finished, dropping a kiss on her nose.

"Perfect?" She raised smiling eyes to him. "You really think so?"

Kon knew she wasn't **just** talking about their baby anymore. His eyes turned soft and serious as he shifted his chair closer to hers and murmured, "Yeah. I do. I love you, so much, Timmie." He wrapped one arm around her, tugging her close until she was almost sitting in his lap.

Tim shifted the rest of the way, perched sideways on his legs. "I love you too, Kon," she said against his neck, eyes falling closed with contentment. "This is…so amazing," she said after a moment's reflection, referring to everything that had happened to them in the short span of a year.

"Yeah, it is. And our kids will be amazing, too."

Tim smirked up at him. "Oh?"

"They'll be a product of our love," Kon told her, "and that's the most perfect thing I've ever known." He then tucked her against him as he rose from his chair, carrying her down the hall to their bedroom, and proceeded to demonstrate that perfection to her.

* * *

Later, as they lay entwined in bed, Kon spooning behind her, he murmured, "Marry me, Timmie."

Tim's heart stuttered in her chest. "W-what?"

Carefully rolling her over to face him, Kon looked straight into her eyes. He was holding a thin platinum ring in his left hand, topped with a small pink diamond in the shape of a heart. "Marry me, Timothea Drake. You'd make me the happiest man on the face of this Earth if I could call you mine for the rest of my life."

Even knowing that he had to have planned out that little speech in order for it to sound so romantic, Tim couldn't help but feel her formerly skipping heart melt. Kon's proposal was directly opposed to Bernard's; he'd taken her up to his childhood treehouse (where they'd spent many an afternoon wiling away the hours over comic books and chocolate milk) thrust the ring out to her, blushed, and stuttered out his question.

It had been childishly sweet, and matched by her own gobsmacked stare and subsequent enthusiastic embrace as she accepted.

The memories were starting to hurt much less, only reminding her of the joy she'd felt on the occasion. Tim knew then that her heart had already started to heal. A wide grin broke over her face and she laughed. "I…yes, Kon. Yes," she said, slipping her finger into the ring, and instantly felt her lips stolen in a bruising kiss, her breath just as stealthily made off with.

It was only when Kon finally pulled back that she had registered the relieved look in his eyes. _He actually thought I'd say no?_ she thought, shocked. But then, hadn't she worried the very same thing after Bernard's death? That she'd never be able to move on and find another love?

That even if she did, she'd never be able to go through with it, for fear that a car accident would take someone else she loved from her?

Kon opened his mouth to say something, but Tim needed to speak her piece first. "I love you," she whispered, and then wrapped her arms around him, kissing him with enthusiastic fervor.

"I love you, too, Tim," Kon said in softly rumbling voice, once she finally released him.

Tim smiled as he place kisses all along her neck and shoulders. Practically giddy with excitement, she asked, "So when do you want to have the wedding?" She figured if she worked quickly they could manage to get things together in time for them to married before she was too pregnant to make it down the aisle. The less time she had to worry about history repeating itself, the better.

Tim was pretty sure Kon would want to adopt Robin, so she could give the baby her surname as a middle name and they'd still all match, being Kents, but that would also take some time. They could worry about that **after** they were married, however.

"I figured we could elope," Kon told her, voice muffled by the mouthful of her skin he was nipping at.

Tim blinked at the ceiling, dazed. "What?" she asked, pulling away from him only to turn back and looked at him. "Elope?" She didn't even notice that the sheet had slipped down and bared her breasts to his gaze, so surprised was she by his words.

Kon, however, couldn't help **but** notice. He was seeing his fiancée – his **fiancée** – half-naked; how could he be anything but delighted with the sight?

It was a good thing that Tim was so out of sorts she didn't notice the length of time it took for him to answer her question. Finally, Kon roused himself and tucked her close to him, under his arm, where her 'attributes' were at least out of sight, if now in touching range.

"I've already called Ma; she says she can set everything by this weekend," Kon told her trying to remember the details as Tim blinked owlish blue eyes up at him. He took her left hand in his right, running his thumb across the thin golden band on her ring finger that marked her as his. "We fly down there on Saturday, get married on Sunday, and Robin stays with Ma and Pa while we honeymoon at this little bed and breakfast outside of town until Friday. Then we fly back to New York the next Saturday."

"You have it all planned out, don't you?" Tim asked, voice trembling just as much as the hand that wore his ring. If they got married in – she quickly counted – five days, then…well, all her panicking over the little things would keep her from panicking over the possibilities of things going wrong.

"I want to be married to you, Tim," Kon said, clasping both of her hands in his, his own nervousness belied by the trembling in his voice. "And I don't want to wait any longer than I have to to be able to call you my wife…and Robin my daughter."

Tim knew that adoption papers would have to be signed for that last, but as her heart lodged in her throat at the look in Kon's eyes, she knew that a piece of paper counted for naught when placed up against true love.

"Let's do it," she said, and smiled back at his grin, only to lose the smile – but not the happiness – when he claimed her lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

* * *

So they did. Darla took Tim, the bride to be, and Robin, the flower girl, shopping for dresses the very next afternoon. Picking out the wedding dress was easy compared to everything else: Robin saw something she liked, Tim tried it on, and the third one she modeled was considered perfect by all of them. The same went for Robin's flower girl dress, and the matching flowered headband. Tim almost didn't have time to regret never having gotten to shop for a wedding dress for her first wedding, the one that had never taken place.

_Third time's the charm – mostly,_ Timmie found herself thinking as Darla dragged her into Victoria's Secret. This wouldn't technically be her second marriage, but it **was** her second engagement. _If only Robin was with us…_ But her daughter was spending the afternoon with Bart, something Darla had arranged – specifically so she could take Tim shopping for her trousseau.

In the past hour, they'd already exhausted the (admittedly meager) lingerie departments of the three department stores in the mall, and now Darla was becoming determined. Determined to find her something to wear on her wedding night, if not for the entire honeymoon. "You didn't have a bachelorette party; you need something to wear!" she'd proclaimed.

And here Tim had thought the whole purpose of a wedding night was not to wear anything. She didn't **like** all the artifice of the satin and lace fripperies hanging around her, and it made her stomach churn to think about how ridiculous she'd look wearing them.

Kon might, though, and that was the whole point. She wasn't going to wear a merry widow or a babydoll nightie for **herself**; it was for him. **He** wouldn't think she looked ridiculous, even if she dressed up like a fuzzy yellow baby chick.

"These are cute," Darla said, pawing through a rack of sparkly, glittery pink things.

"Hell no," Tim said. She didn't like the idea of being considered 'cute' much better. And she'd already decided on no pastels. Most of them looked positively preposterous on her. **Especially** with her growing gravidity.

Smirking at her with her eyes, Darla daringly held out a two-piece bikini type **thing** in hot pink mesh – with a few strategic sequins for good measure. "You sure?"

Tim's glare both questioned her friend's sanity, and suggested where she could shove the lingerie.

"Okay, okay…" Darla tugged Tim over to a winter wonderland of snow and silver patterned items, just in time for Christmas. "What about white? It's traditional, after all."

Tim snorted. "For the wedding dress, D, not…this." She flicked a finger at a plastic hanger, turning a slip of gown to face her.

"Picky, picky…" Despite her protests, Tim ended up with a softly shimmering white peignoir set, a thigh-length chemise with thin straps under a delicate lace robe.

It was actually pretty nice. And it **was** Darla's money…

"How about red?" Darla suggested, holding up a short cherry-colored negligee with marabou feather trim.

"It's kind of…bright," Tim said helplessly, peeking at the tag and seeing that that shade of red was apparently called Harlot Scarlet, and…not really wanting to wear something that went by that name.

Darla rolled her eyes, hung the red piece of nightwear back up, and cast about for something else. "This one?" It was a long gown, satin with thin straps in a dark purple color.

It was also practically see-through, and edged in way too much frilly lace.

Tim grimaced.

Darla sighed. She traded it for a different gown, more of a dark mauve than purple, and made out of some cotton-like fabric that was softer than silk and **clung**. It was knee-length, but with long sleeves and a high neck, obviously winter wear. "Hmm?"

Tim nodded tiredly. That would do for cold nights, she supposed, reminding herself again that Darla was paying for all this…

But that was just the beginning.

* * *

Finally, after another hour had gone by, and with it more items of lingerie than Tim had ever seen in her life, let alone worn, Tim thought that maybe she could get Darla to let them check out, despite not having found 'the perfect piece of lingerie' or whatever it was her friend was aiming for. In addition to the white peignoir set and the mauve gown, Tim also had a burgundy shift with a wide neck and short sleeves, that barely covered her ass, a floaty silver chiffon pajama set consisting of a loose tanktop and tight shorts, and a black lace merrywidow meant to be worn with thigh-high fishnet stockings – and a pair of patent leather high heels. Tim cringed whenever she saw the ensemble, reminded of brief flashes of dominatrix porn movies accidentally seen on cable.

That was definitely **not** her idea of perfect. And even if Kon **might** like it if she were 'in charge' she wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't look ridiculous in that get-up. Especially when she was five months pregnant.

So when Darla wasn't looking, she shoved it onto a nearby rack.

Darla replaced it with a black satin negligee.

Tim didn't notice the switch; she had spied something off in a corner on a sale rack.

It was a satin teddy with a matching thong, in a shade the tag said was midnight blue. It had a bodice made of something that looked like velvet, and felt even softer. There was a frill around the bottom hem made of two layers of flimsy, semi-transparent silk. The straps were very thin, and the whole thing seemed barely more than a wisp of gossamer; it was so soft and fine that Tim felt like even if she wore it she'd still feel naked.

And yet, she thought it was **perfect**.

She was so mesmerized by the feel of the fabric that she didn't even hear Darla come up behind her. "You do realize that's going to cover less than anything else we've looked at?" she said, amused by Tim's absorption with the garment.

Tim blushed. "I just…I like it." It was the exact shade of blue as Kon's eyes…when he got really really turned on, that was.

Damn, she had it bad. Good thing she was marrying him.

* * *

While the females were out shopping, Kon made arrangements for the both of them to be away from work for a week. He then asked Bart to be his best man, and once he'd extracted himself from the other's octopus-like grip of congratulations, bought the five plane tickets he'd reserved and called his grandmother to finish setting things up. While Kon took his tuxedo to the drycleaners', and purchased a new blue cummerbund, Tim made a long-distance call to her parents in Monaco and told them to get on the next plane to Kansas City, and **why**.

He swore he could hear her mother's squeals of glee and her father's roar of outrage all the way across town.

The reception was mixed when Kon called his own parents. His mother was thrilled, but a bit put out that he wasn't having a society wedding.

"You had one, and look how that turned out," Kon pointed out gently. All the trappings of her 'station' hadn't been enough to keep Clark's love for her alive; Kon felt sure that he and Tim would make it through, and he didn't want a bunch of people he didn't know sharing that special day with them.

"You have a point, son," Lena Luthor replied ruefully. "I'm just so glad you've found someone."

Kon smiled, sure that if Lucky and Lacey gave a damn about him as more than the hand that fed them, they'd see how goofy he looked. "Me too."

"And she's already pregnant?" At Kon's assent, she said with cautious happiness, "I hope you're ready for this, Conner. You'll be getting an instant family; two kids, two cats…"

"Three cats, actually; I gave Robin one for her birthday," Kon corrected.

He could practically hear his mother start at that. "And this was **before** you started dating?"

Kon blushed; his mom **would** have to remember that one time when he's stated in fit of teenage pique that a pet was a 'family' gift – not something that you got for just a friend. "Yeah, I guess Timmie really liked me, even then." Hell yes, she had, she just hadn't been admitting it aloud.

"Timmie, hmm?" He could hear the grin in her voice. "Better known as Timothea Drake. And after all your talk about not wanting to get involved in big business…" She tsked.

Kon chuckled. "Yeah, well, my heart kinda had other ideas." Like never letting Timmie go.

His grandfather sent his congratulations, and promised to fly down in his jet in time for the ceremony. Currently he was in Japan on business, but was more willing to cut the negotiations short.

Kon's father, on the other hand… Clark and Lois were both working on yet another 'corruption in public office' story – in Washington, D.C. As if crooked politicians were actually news anymore.

"You know, you're being very selfish, Conner," Clark chided him. "Just…out of the blue, you decided to get married?" A pause while he tried to assimilate that, then, "Is she pregnant?"

Kon never would have thought that that was the only reason they should get married. He loved Tim, and she loved him; **that** was why they were getting married. And Tim would never have been bullied into a marriage she didn't want or wasn't ready for. Kon knew that the fact that he had waited to ask her was most of the reason she'd said yes; she'd had time to think the idea over and come to accept it as what she wanted, without outside interference. "Yes, but she had been for several months before we decided to get married," Kon replied, deciding that the details were none of Clark's business, but knowing that little piece of information would cheese Clark off severely.

Kon was right; Clark had to hand off the phone while he dealt with that.

Lois was better, but not by much. "I think it's a bit…sudden," she said, striving for diplomacy, and not really attaining it. "We didn't even know you were dating anyone."

"Probably because we don't talk," Kon said honestly, and she sighed, her silence on the subject an agreement, and handed the phone back to his father.

"Kon, we can't just drop everything because you've decided to…to do the right thing and get hitched," Clark said, clearly thinking that love came second to it being Kon's **duty** to marry the mother of his child, no matter what had happened in his own brief disaster of a marriage to Kon's mother. "You can't really expect us to fly off at a moments' notice to come to your wedding, can you?"

"No, I suppose not," Kon said, feigning sadness, and burying his real hurt. "After all, you're only my father."

At that, Clark sobered. "Kon, we'll try to make it, but you really should have taken things like this into consideration. Marriage is between a man and a woman, but the ceremony is for family."

_Right, like you and I are close family. Hell, we're barely friends._ A wicked grin came over Kon's face. "Ma didn't seem to have any problem with our plans," he said, feigning nonchalance. "She's the one who said we could have it on the farm." He hung up on Clark's splutters, feeling very satisfied with himself.

Even if neither of them showed up, Kon would be okay. He'd long ago given up on having an actual relationship with his father. He didn't even call him Dad, he called him Clark.

He was determined to do better with his own children. Robin already called him Daddy, and so would the new little sproglet. Kon was already making plans for after the baby was born. When Robin found out that she wasn't going to be allowed to go along with them on their honeymoon, she pouted until they promised her they'd take her to Disneyworld once the baby was born.

Kon just hoped that looking after two kids at a theme park wouldn't be as daunting a task as he feared it would.

But that was still a few months away; right then, he had a wedding to plan. It was going to be a small, simple ceremony, held in the garden out back of Kent Farms. Neither of them had tons of close friends, so it would be mostly family, but Kon found himself glad that Pa still owned his shotgun. Jack Drake had seemed to like him okay when he was just Tim's secretary/nanny, but Kon had a feeling that, in the other man's estimation of him, he would fall far short of what he considered to be proper potential husband material.

Then again, Jack had no idea he was really Conner Kent, set to inherit all his mother's worldly possessions, who would, in turn, inherit **her** father's estate. But if fame and fortune mattered more to the older man than someone who loved Tim and Robin, well…

At least Tim wouldn't be the only one with sucky in-laws.

* * *

**November 10th**

* * *

The day of the wedding dawned clear and calm, for which everyone was thankful. Having the ceremony in the town church would have been an option, but Tim was nominally Jewish, and Kon was all but agnostic. The weather was cool and crisp, the sun shining brightly dispelling the chill from the air until the short ceremony was over and everyone could retreat to the barn for the reception.

Standing there, underneath a rose-bedecked chupah – and Kon would really have to thank his grandmother for managing to find one in rural South Kansas – Rabbi Goodwin intoned the words of bonding in holy matrimony. Quite a bit of them were in Hebrew, but that wasn't the only reason Kon had a hard time paying attention.

He couldn't take his eyes off Timmie.

Tim looked like a fairy tale in the making, complete with happy ending. From the iridescent pearls she'd borrowed from her great-great-grandmother that hung at her neck and ears, to the pale blue ribbon tying together her bouquet of creamy white roses and gardenias, there was nothing about her that didn't draw the eye. Kon hardly knew where to look.

Her dress was simple; simple and beautiful, making her look absolutely radiant. It was a shimmering white, off the shoulder gown, that fell in golden-tinged waves from beneath her breasts, masking her growing pregnancy. The neckline dipped to the small of her back, and was decorously low in front. A filmy, glittering veil was held up by a ribbon pinned to two roses above her ears, and fell softly over her dark curls to her knees.

In short, she was a picture perfect bride, and not just because Kon was in love with her.

That was when Kon knew that he wouldn't be looking anywhere but her eyes for the rest of the ceremony. They shone with her love for him, and her happiness for their impending marriage.

Before Kon knew it, they were exchanging 'I do's' and rings.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Kon said, voice husky with emotion. He held his breath as he slid the delicately braided gold band onto the third finger of Timmie's left hand to join her engagement ring.

He didn't let the breath out until Tim did the same, her own voice trembling as she spoke the solemn words, but her hand never wavering as she slipped his own wedding band, thicker but of the same design, onto his finger.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Rabbi Goodwin said with a sunny smile, followed by some more words in Hebrew. Then: "You may kiss the bride."

Kon did so with alacrity, letting out a soft laugh as he leaned forward before his hands had quite managed to fumble Timmie's veil out of the way.

If the smile on her blushing face was anything to go by, she didn't care.

After they'd been kissing for at least a minute, Robin pushed her way between them. "Me next!" she demanded.

Her mother and new father were only too happy to oblige, smothering her with kisses.

Jack Drake seemed to vacillate between glaring at Kon, and smiling sappily at his obviously happy daughter.

Kon was also relieved that having a Jewish-flavored ceremony seemed to tip the scales in his favor, since Jonathan Kent's blunderbuss was only half full of rock salt.

Clark and Lois made it to the wedding, but only in time to swipe a piece of cake from the reception afterwards. The sound of Ma Kent scolding the two of them was music to Kon's ears.

Or it would have been, if he could have focused on anything except his new bride and step-daughter. Exactly a year to the day after they had first kissed, Kon had married Timmie Drake.

He was the happiest man on Earth.

* * *

Their honeymoon went by in a blur of passion, laughter, and love. They ended up heading back to Smallville well rested, but anxious to get back to **their** daughter.

Life was looking up. And all because of unexpected love.


	12. And Baby Makes Four

**And Baby Makes Four**

* * *

A few weeks after they got back from their honeymoon, Kon entered the bedroom to find his wife – and he still couldn't quite get over that: Timmie was his **wife**, and Robin would soon be his daughter legally – already in bed, reading glasses on her nose, paging through yet another document for work. Smirking, he quickly plucked the file out of her hands, and the glasses off her face, placing a kiss on her upturned nose as he placed both items on the bedside table.

"Kon…" Tim frowned at him, even as she tilted her head enough so his next kiss landed on her lips.

"Nope," Kon replied as he reluctantly pulled back. "It's late, and you two need your rest." Kon smiled, rubbing his free hand tenderly over the round firmness of her abdomen that contained their child.

Tim sighed, but acquiesced as he started rubbing the tension from her shoulders. "Only because I'm tired," she grumbled, with the certainty of a cat that was assured of its own infallibly, so made any unwanted suggestion they followed seem like their own idea.

"Of course," Kon agreed with a grin, as he deftly slipped the straps of her nightdress off her shoulders, and began placing kisses on her neck.

It turned out that Timmie wasn't as tired as she let on.

* * *

The next day at work, Tim and Kon were going over the quarterly budget.It was tedious business, but it had to be done. Even so, Tim found herself grateful for any interruption.

Especially from her…family.

Timmie winced and gasped. "Oh!" She blinked rapidly, surprised by the sudden pain in her abdomen. Then she smiled, as she recalled the familiarity. At around five months, the fetus started moving.

Kon was on his knees by her side in an instant. "What is it?" he asked, his voice rising. "Tim? Is something…wrong?"

Tim looked down at Kon, bemusement in her eyes. "I'm okay, Kon," she was quick to reassure him. "It's just that the baby kicked…really hard, too!" She smiled, marveling at the sight of her stomach changing shape as the baby moved within her. Little bulges from elbows, feet, and bottom would appear in one spot and roll across her stomach to the other side. Robin hadn't been nearly that active, especially that early.

Kon let out a sigh of relief, then, with a nod from Tim, he untucked her blouse, peeking under it. He watched the movements with a goofy smile on his face, then schooled his expression to impassivity. Mock-glaring at the unseen fetus, a grin lurking at the corners of his mouth, he waggled a finger scoldingly. "Bad baby," he remonstrated.

Timmie snorted at his antics, stopping mid-laugh as the baby kicked again, causing her stomach to ripple.

Kon's eyes widened. "Whoa! That was some kick!" he said, laughing joyously.

Tim smiled and took Kon's unresisting hand, placing it on her belly, directly over the source of the last kick. Their eyes met, caught in the wonder of their unborn child as he or she kicked again, making their presence known.

"Love you," they whispered to each other, before leaning in to seal their words with a kiss.

* * *

Both Kon and Tim – and especially Robin – were unhappy to miss Christmas on the farm, but with Tim so far along in her pregnancy, flying wasn't really an option. And driving wouldn't be smart, not with as much snow as they were receiving; the roads had already been blocked twice just within Gotham, there was no need to take chances on the highway.

Plus, it was Clark and Lois's turn.

Robin sulked around the house, especially when Tim was unable to help her decorate their Christmas tree because she was so tired. Her sprits lifted, however, when Kon gave her an early Christmas present, on Christmas Eve before bedtime.

"What's this?" Robin asked, carefully tearing open the large manila envelope as she'd seen her mother do.

"Open it and see," Kon told her, hiding his nervousness behind a smile.

Robin did as instructed, and pulled out a sheaf of papers. She flipped through them, not really comprehending all the big words, but stopped when she saw her name. And Kon's. And her name, only with…Kon's last name?

"What does this mean?" Robin asked. She thought she knew, but she wasn't quite six, and maybe she was wrong.

She hoped not, though. She loved her daddy, and him marrying her Mama meant that he was a **real** daddy, not just a part-time daddy like her friend Lian's grandparents, who were divorced. Their adopted daughter Mia had to keep shuttling back and forth between them every week because Oliver Queen and Dinah Lance didn't live together, and Mia mostly lived with her mother. Ollie's son Connor was grown and out of the house, just like their adopted son Roy.

And the word 'adoption' was on the papers Robin held in her hands. Did that mean…? She hoped it did.

"Those are adoptions papers, sweetpea," Tim told her, picking her daughter up and pulling her close, as she didn't have enough of a lap anymore to sit her on. "It means that Kon is now your daddy. Legally."

Robin knew what legally meant – it meant the government said it was so, instead of it just being that way. Kon had been her daddy since he'd started calling her pumpkin, that was how she'd felt. But she knew that her Mama wouldn't think of Kon as her daddy unless she and Kon were all kissy together. And her Mama wouldn't **say** that Kon was her daddy unless she and Kon got married.

But now **everyone** would know that Kon was her daddy, and no one could tell her different, not even that little know-it-all Luke McDunnagh, who was in fifth grade.

She'd finally gotten the rest of her wish.

Robin squealed and threw herself at Kon, hugging him tight, glad when her Mama followed. "I'm the happiest I've ever been," she said, remembering that long ago birthday wish, and how she'd surpassed even that happiness. Tears pricked her eyes, and she let them fall even as she smiled wider than she could ever remember. "Thank you so much, Mama…Daddy. I love you."

"We love you too, sweetpea," Tim told her.

"Yeah, we love you, pumpkin," Kon said, voice catching in his throat, the happiness almost overflowing from his eyes in tears.

They grinned at each other and hugged their daughter – and baby-to-be – between them.

* * *

**One Month Later**

* * *

"How are you feeling today?" Kon did his best not to ask that every day, but with Tim having finally taken off from work for her maternity leave, and her gravid state becoming ever more apparent, he couldn't help but worry over her and their baby. Worrying was all he could do, after all, since Tim was the one who was pregnant.

With Kon's assistance, she sank down into the couch and immediately propped her feet up on the table. "I'm about as good as can be expected," she told him. "I think the baby will be a little early; she's already dropped a little." Tim had taken to referring to the baby as a girl, since she had experience with Robin. Kon referred to the baby as a boy just to keep things even.

In actuality, Kon was the one who wanted a girl, since he loved Robin so much, and Tim was half-hoping for a boy, since they already had a girl.

"Really? How do you know?" Kon asked with interested, scrutinizing her stomach. "That he's dropped, I mean?"

"Because I can almost take full breaths now," Tim told him, smile tired and wry. She sighed and slumped back into the couch cushions. "But I'm still tired, and my back aches, and my feet are swollen and they ache too, and I have to pee every half-hour." At Kon's stunned look, Timmie laughed softly and wiped away the few tears that had formed in her eyes. _Damn hormones!_ "Other than that, though…" she joked, trying to make light of everything.

Kon smiled sympathetically. Despite her complaints, Tim bore her pregnancy well; momentary worries about her appearance and anxiety about the birth aside. Kon admired her equanimity, and he also thought she'd never looked more beautiful than with their child inside of her. "Other than that," he finished for her, "you're excited about the baby and you're worried about the birth. And sitting at home with nothing to do is making you antsy and wishing you were back at work."

Tim nodded, then shook her head. "You're right about the first two things, but I had to take my maternity leave. I wasn't able to get anything done, between naps and all the bathroom breaks I needed to take." She smiled wryly. "And I'm feeling less tired this week, so it was a good decision. It's just…I've never been one for sitting on the sidelines, and the waiting is driving me crazy!" It had been that way when she was pregnant with Robin, as well, but then she'd had her impending motherhood to focus on. She hadn't known the answers to so many questions that she'd subsequently answered in the past six years. How often would she need to feed the baby? How do you fold cloth diapers? What kind of baby food is the best to start out with?

Would she be a good mother?

Now all she had to focus on was wondering how different this baby would be from Robin, and if Kon would freak out at having to take care of a baby in addition to a toddler.

"I'm not too thrilled with the waiting, either," Kon told her, carefully settling on the couch beside her. "But the baby will be here soon – barely a month from now – and I'm sure once it comes we'll both be thinking of tons of stuff that we should have done already."

That was truer than Kon knew. Tim laughed and leaned into Kon's side, sighing with contentment as he wrapped his arm around her – around them both.

* * *

Kon Kent woke up in a post-coital knot of limbs. He muzzily became aware of two things: A.) the person he was entwined around like an octopus was his wife (and their as yet unborn child) and B.) said wife had stolen all the blankets and he'd woken up because it was mid-February and he was freezing because he was left with only the thin blue sheet.

Strangely, since Timmie looked so cute wrapped up in the fuzzy blankets like a contented moth in a cocoon, he didn't mind.

Carefully freeing himself from Tim's tight embrace, Kon slid out of bed, not wanting to wake her yet. A quick trip to the bathroom for a shower, the closet for some clothes, and the kitchen for some breakfast, and with a goodbye kiss to his just-waking wife, Kon headed off to work. Tim would get Robin off to school, and maybe she would surprise him by bringing him lunch that day.

Tim didn't, but it was just as well since Kon ended up having to work through lunch, coordinating a three-way conference call to Zurich and Tokyo.

Completely drained, and more than missing his family, Kon knocked off work at a bit past three-thirty and headed home, anxious to see his wife and daughter. When Tim took off for her maternity leave, she'd decided to stay home with Robin in the afternoons, instead of them picking her up and taking her back with them to work for a few hours, so Kon didn't get to see either of his girls while he was at work.

When he got home, the house was mostly dark, except for a light in the front hall and one upstairs. After stopping in Robin's room for a few moments, he padded softly down the hall to the master bedroom. It was empty, but noticing the light coming through the open bathroom door Kon quickly stripped down to his boxers and headed inside to surprise his wife.

Timmie, her dark curls pinned up on top of her head with a plastic clip, was lolling back in the bubble-filled bathtub, eyes closed, a soft, pleased smile on her face. She turned towards him as he entered, eyes fluttering open, smile widening as she caught sight of him leaning against the sink. "You're home early," Tim observed.

Kon smiled ruefully. "My mind wasn't really on my work," he admitted, shrugging. "So I decided that maybe I should be where it was."

Tim snorted. She was aware that Kon's eyes had left her face as he spoke and were now wandering over the rest of her body. Flushing and trying to hide her growing belly in the soapy water, she tense as Kon placed a hand on her shoulder, following his fingers with a kiss. Relaxing as she once again realized that Kon **did** find her attractive, even with how large she was getting, Timmie arched her back provocatively, and fluttered her eyelashes, silently flirting with him again. "So, you're home for the day?" As their eyes met again, Tim smiled as she saw the heat in Kon's gaze intensify. But she didn't just want Kon to look at her, she wanted him to **touch** her – and she wanted to touch him, to let her hands roam over every last inch of him.

Carefully bracing herself, Tim started to rise from the tub, her gravid form making keeping her balance difficult. Kon was quick to help her, supporting her with one arm as she climbed to her feet, rivulets of water trailing down her body

She reached out for the towel hanging nearby, but Kon beat her to it. "Yeah, I'm home for today. Is there…anything I can do for you?" His voice was both teasing and hopeful as he began to rub her gently with the blue terrycloth.

"Mmm, that feels nice." Tim half closed her eyes as she spoke, leaning in to his touch as he massaged her shoulders and then bent forward to cover her mouth with his in a slow, sweet caress. She put her hands on his chest and then slid them up to his shoulders as she deepened their kiss. "I suppose that there might be a thing or two you could do for me…Mr. Kent."

"I am glad to be of service…Mrs. Kent." Kon reached back and removed the clip holding her hair.

Tim smiled and willingly went into his arms as he helped her rise from the tub like Venus from the ocean.

And then he carefully dried her off and took her to their bed, where he worshipped her like the goddess she was – to him.

* * *

**March 4th**

* * *

Right in the middle of reading the Sunday paper – actually, the comics sections, specifically, _Baby Blues_ (oh, the irony) – Tim started to feel the pangs of labor.

Not that she recognized them as such, at least not right away. The human ability to forget large amounts of trauma was why so many women willingly got pregnant a second time. Instead of, oh, taking more extreme birth control measures like getting a hysterectomy or having their tubes tied.

Or forcing the men in their lives to get vasectomies, since that was a less radical procedure.

By the time Tim had finished reading the comics, the business section, and the front page, eaten her breakfast and gotten a good start on the New York Times crossword puzzle, she was positive that it wasn't just Braxton Hicks contractions, or the baby kicking in some new way.

She was having labor contractions. Joy.

Deciding she should wait to tell Kon until she was prepared to deal with his inevitable hysterics, Tim bypassed the living room where he was watching cartoons with Robin, took a quick, but thorough shower, put on a comfortable cotton pullover dress and loafers – forgoing a bra since she'd just have to take it off to put on her hospital gown – grabbed her suitcase and carried it to the front door, and then finished watching _The Animaniacs _with her husband and her daughter before pulling Kon into the kitchen for a quick chat.

"Anything wrong?" Kon asked.

"Not wrong, per se, but I am in labor," Tim said calmly.

To Kon's credit, after he got past the eye-blinking, slack-jawed staring, and spent a few minutes making various squeaky noises of panic, he managed to calm down enough to actually deal with things. "Okay, okay, I can handle this."

"Actually, I'll be the one 'handling' this," Tim said testily as another wave of pain wracked her middle.

"Yeah, I know, which is why I'm going crazy," Kon told her with all due seriousness, one hand rubbing soft circles on the small of her back, at the epicenter of the pain. "I can't do anything to help you except worry."

Tim was unable to help her smile. "You worrying doesn't actually help me, Kon."

"How about me being supportive?" Kon asked, grinning weakly as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Tim snorted. "I suppose that would help. A bit," she conceded.

Kon scratched his head with his free hand, and Tim absently noted that he needed a hair cut. "How, um…how far apart are the contractions?"

"A little over an hour," Tim said, since in truth, she hadn't take notice of the exact time she'd had the first contraction. It had been sometime between 7:30 and 8:00, and the second had happened while she was getting dressed at 9:12.

"So…should we head to the hospital, or…?"

"Or," Tim answered immediately, already having a plan for the rest of the day. "We need to call someone to watch Robin, **then** we can head to the hospital." It was a sparse plan, but perfect in its simplicity.

"I'll get right on it," Kon said, and with a quick kiss for Tim, he headed for the phone.

* * *

An hour later both Darla and Bart had arrived at the former Drake, current Kent residence. Tim was busy telling Robin why she was going to the hospital, and Bart tried to do his best to reassure Kon that everything was going to be fine.

He didn't know anything about birthing no babies, though, so Darla had to step in and help out. As Tim's Lamaze coach the first time around, she had actually been in the delivery room with her, and knew what to expect, so she'd actually been able to calm Kon down some.

Robin was **not** best pleased to be left behind, but conceded that it **would** be boring to have to wait at the hospital, instead of at home with her toys.

Kon was very willing to leave watching Robin to their friends so he could concentrate on being there for Timmie. Tim, however, due to a wealth of maternal instinct brought on by a surge of hormones, was more than reluctant to leave her baby behind, even if it was to go and give birth to another one.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of birdie-girl while you're gone," Bart reassured her.

"And I'll be here to make sure she's okay," Darla added, which actually **was** reassuring.

Robin frowned. "Why're you callin' me a bird?" she demanded of Bart, hands on her hips, glaring cutely at him.

Bart looked momentarily stymied. "Uh…because a robin is a type of bird," he answered finally.

Robin seemed to consider that for a moment, before finally nodding. "Okay."

If only everything could be explained that simply to her. Kon still shuddered when he remembered the mess he and Tim had almost made of trying to explain where Robin's 'little brudder or sister came from.'

Tim winced, and tried to hold back the pains of her contractions, not wanting to scare Robin. Kon quickly went to her side to support and said, quickly hustling her out of the door, "Well, if you guys are all set here, Tim and I are gonna head to the hospital. We'll call you when the baby arrives and you can bring Robin down to see him or her."

He closed the door on Robin asking, "How's the baby gonna get out of Mama's tummy?" and was grateful that he didn't have to answer, even as he knew Bart would get his revenge.

"Darla's going to kill us," Tim panted out between breaths, chuckling. She must have heard Robin's words, as well.

"Oh, yeah," Kon agreed.

* * *

Half an hour and one contraction later, they were at the hospital, Tim comfortably ensconced in a bed, both of them waiting for her obstetrician to arrive.

"Um…can I get you anything?" Kon asked, after stowing her suitcase under the bed and helping her change into her hospital gown. He stood in the center of the small sunlit room, fidgeting with nervous energy.

"Some ice chips?" Tim suggested after a moment's thought. At Kon's bemused look, she elaborated, "I'm not supposed to drink much of anything while I'm in labor."

"Ah."

After that, things went by way too slowly, but also way too fast. The waiting for Tim to 'dilate' open enough to start pushing the baby out was interminable for both of them. And yet, Kon also found himself dreading the birth, both because he'd have to see Tim in quite a lot of pain, and because he didn't know anything about babies.

He'd learn, of course, and Tim would teach him, but it was still stress-inducing. As was watching Tim strain through the labor pains and listen to her whimpers.

But at least the anxiety wasn't constant, even if there were only the occasional moments when it was dispelled. Every hour on the hour the nurse would come by and check to see how far Tim was dilated. Kon didn't exactly like the fact that another man was seeing those parts of his wife, but he knew better than to say anything, especially to Timmie. In the mood she was in, she'd likely follow through on those clichéd threats pregnant wives gave to their husbands about castration.

Tim finally consented to drink some water with lunch – just looking at her panting form had made Kon's mouth dry in sympathy – even if the lunch itself was only some vegetable soup and cut up fruit. A few more hours of waiting, while Kon contacted Tim's parents and his own – or, in the case of Clark and Lois, tried to; they were out on a story and had never given him their new cell phone numbers – and Ma Kent spent a few minutes trading tips with Tim to make bearing the pain easier.

Then Tim's water broke, and the doctor started coming by every half-hour, and somewhere along the way – Tim couldn't quite place when – she had finally gotten her epidural, and the actual pushing had been a **lot** easier than she remembered from her first birth.

Stupid all-natural child birth. Timmie loved Dana, she really did, but she'd never again listen to someone who'd never actually given birth about having no drugs when going through labor. Ma had told her to go for it as long as the doctor said it wouldn't harm the baby, and she was definitely going for it.

* * *

Finally, **finally**, the 'real' labor started, and Tim could push.

"Okay, Timmie, **push**! …Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Okay, relax for a moment…now take a deep breath and **push**." Kon desperately tried to remember the proper cadence and rhythm that Tim had taught him from her Lamaze classes taken so long ago, talking her through her contractions. His touch seemed to help her ride through the pain, but Kon was pretty that by the time her labor was over, he wouldn't have much feeling left in his hands, Tim was squeezing them so tightly.

Still, it was the smallest price to pay if he could actually help Tim through this.

Wiping Timmie's sweat-drenched face with a cool washcloth provided by a nurse, Kon said, "You're doing great, baby. Have I told you how much I love you today?"

Tim gave him a pained smile. "Once or twice," she hissed through gritted teeth, trying to relax between contractions. "It's…definitely a lot easier with you here. I'm…" She swallowed hard, and panted as tears pricked her eyes. "I'm so glad that I…don't have to do this…without you."

"I'm glad, too," Kon said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Feeling the hitch in his wife's breathing, he prepared to start talking her through another contraction. Before he knew it, their child would be born, and they'd be parents.

Again.

Despite his anxiety, Kon could hardly wait. Children were such incredible things – so much possibility and potential , all wrapped up in a tiny little bundle of wonder. The whole world might be changed, for good **or** evil, in a hundred different ways, by this lovely little person – or not at all. You could never tell.

Unless you were right there for it.

Like Kon planned to be.

* * *

From when they arrived at the hospital at half past ten in the morning, to when the baby was born at 5:37 in the evening, was approximately seven hours. Still, caught up in the miracle of life that they were, the hours seemed to fly by for Tim and Kon, while also being interminably long for both of them.

But when it was all over…they had their son. Jason Drake Kent. No other name had even been considered.

Kon thought the baby – **their** baby – was perfect. Jason looked so…so perfect with the tuft of dark hair peeking out from underneath the little blue cap the nurse had put on him, and his tiny starfish hands with specks for fingernails. And since Timmie was in that nebulous place between exhaustion and true sleep, he could look his fill.

Jason made some cooing noises, so Kon picked him up, careful to support the baby's head. He could touch his fill, too. And he did, cradling his son in his arms, barely able to believe that he'd had a part, however small in, creating this little miracle of life. He gently touched Jason's tiny little cherubic face with his index finger and smiled as Jason's blue eyes opened and stared vacantly at him. Kon moved his finger down, setting it on the baby's clenched fist. The tiny hand opened and grasped his father's finger, and Kon felt his heart skip a beat.

Tim woke up when an orderly brought them both dinner. She was still tired, and Kon had to help her eat since her hands trembled when she tried to fork up some of the watery pasta on her plate.

"Jason's probably hungry by now, too," Tim said, once they were both through eating. She appeared stronger for the meal, and the extra-strength Tylenol a nurse had given her.

Kon carefully lifted Jason from his bassinet and carried him over to Timmie. He placed him in her arms, then leaned over and tentatively stroked one of the baby's cheeks with his forefinger. "You hungry, little dude?" he asked.

The baby's head moved jerkily towards the contact, and his eyes blinked briefly open, before falling shut once more. He gave out a thin wail, and his mouth opened in a sucking motion. "I think that's a yes," Timmie chuckled gently. Awkwardly, she shrugged one shoulder out of her gray hospital gown and put the baby to her breast. Jason needed a bit of help maneuvering into position, but then latched onto her nipple with an eagerness that almost surprised Tim. "Oh!"

"Does it hurt, Timmie?" Kon asked anxiously. Logically, he knew that Tim had breastfed before – it was the best start a woman could give to her child – and if it had hurt she would have told him. Still, she had years of practice at being a mother, but he was relatively new to being a father. And Jason hadn't been nearly that…enthusiastic the previous night.

"No, it's just a bit of a surprise," Tim said, blushing even as she cradled Jason's head closer so he could nurse easier. "Robin wasn't nearly that eager." She smiled down at the baby with pride and watched her baby eat.

Kon grinned as he too watched. "Look at him go!"

For a few minutes, the newborn suckled with enthusiasm, but then he seemed to lose interest, and relinquished his grip in favor of looking around, eyes flicking across the room and finally settling on his father.

"Kon, would you like to hold him?" Tim asked.

Gingerly, Kon picked up the tiny bundle; even supporting his neck, he scarcely needed more than two hands to hold him. "He's so tiny," he whispered, awed.

Wiggling her way back into her drafty hospital gown, Tim smiled as she watched her husband and son together. "They grow up fast," she said, and couldn't help but become a bit nostalgic for Robin's own babyhood. "Where's Robin?" she asked.

Kon roused himself from his reveries, encompassed in the tiny world of the tiny baby he held in his arms. "She's probably still at home with Darla and Bart."

Tim yawned, eyes fluttering closed as she settled back against the pillows. "I want her to meet her little brother as soon as possible. Could you–" she yawned again, "–could you call them and ask them to come?"

"I'll do that," Kon promised. "After you get some sleep. And her, too, I'm thinking." It was almost eight in the evening; the next morning would be soon enough for everyone to be introduced.

Too tired to protest, Tim just nodded. "All right."

Once Tim had dropped off to sleep, Kon crept into the bathroom with the room's phone to call Bart, letting him know the plan. His friend sounded a tad breathless and irritable when he answered, and Kon wondered if it had more to do with his proximity to Darla than with Robin's rambunctiousness. Darla was a shameless flirt, and Bart had always had a thing for blondes.

Kon preferred brunettes, but Robin was the exception.

"I'll wait for you to call tomorrow, and then we'll head over," Bart promised, and then with a squeak – making Kon wonder exactly where Darla's hands were – he said, "Bye, gotta go!" and hung up.

Kon shook his head, a rueful grin on his face, and headed back to watch over two-thirds of his family, while waiting for the other third to arrive.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and way too early. At least as far as Timothea Drake was concerned. She'd been woken up several times during the night by Kon, since Jason had started crying, and, after making sure his diaper was dry, Kon had assumed Jason was hungry.

Jason was. And while Kon **could** have gotten some formula from one of the nurses and fed Jason himself, Tim's breasts felt very uncomfortable if she went too long without draining them of their milk.

Still, even with the soreness on top of the lack of sleep – something Tim did **not** remember with fondness from her first pregnancy – she was eager to see her daughter. Their daughter.

Just as eager as Robin was to meet her new brother, no doubt.

Not wanting to disturb his son's 'breakfast,' Kon had headed off to the payphone down the hall to ask Bart and Darla to bring Robin by. No cell phones were allowed in the hospital and Kon hadn't wanted to go outside in the cold to make the call. "They're on their way," Kon told her.

"Good," Tim said, shifting her grip on Jason to that he could nurse easier. "Jason's almost finished eating."

Jason barely had finished eating before his diaper needed to be changed, and Kon got his first real lesson in how to change a diaper. After Jason was all clean and tucked away back into his fuzzy blue sleeper, Kon tugged his hat down over his head and put his socks on his feet, before settling him in the crib and helping Timmie make herself look a bit more presentable. He dug her out some soft flannel pajamas and combed her hair back into a loose braid.

They were finally all tucked away with a few minutes to spare before their guests arrived.

"Well, kiddo, ready to meet your big sister?" Kon asked the tiny bundle nestled in his arms. Jason opened his eyes slightly and yawned in response, before promptly falling asleep again.

Tim laughed softly, a pained grimace briefly coming over her face as the action put pressure on her sore muscles. She smiled again anyway, as she took in the sight of her husband and their newborn baby boy. "It seems I'm not the only one who's tired."

"You've had a long day," Kon said, perching carefully on the edge of the bed so Tim could see Jay. "A long two days, actually."

"He was worth it, though," Timmie said softly, reaching out with one hand to stroke the wispy dark curls on her baby's head. "Every single minute."

Inching closer to his wife, Kon agreed, "Yeah, he was." They both settled in to watch over him, as they anxiously waited for the arrival of their other child.

It was only a few minutes later, barely half an hour after they'd made the call, that Darla phoned from just outside the hospital, letting them know that they were there. A few minutes after that, the door creaked open, and they both turned to watch as Robin tiptoed inside. "Izzit time?" she asked in a stagewhisper, wide eyes scanning every niche and crevice of the brightly-lit beige room.

"Yes, sweetpea," Tim said, smiling softly.

"Come on in, pumpkin, and meet your baby brother Jason," Kon added.

Robin rushed over to the bed and then, with a gentleness belying her earlier helter-skelter run, climbed up on the bed to sit beside her still-healing mother. "He's so small," Robin said in awe as she peaked underneath the blanket at her little brother. Jason blinked wide, sleepy blue eyes at her, and she grinned.

"You were this small once," Timmie said, a wistful smile on her face as she reminisced.

Robin turned curious eyes on her mother. "I was?"

Smile widening, Tim murmured, "Mm-hm."

Looking back at her baby brother with renewed awe, Robin whispered, "Wow." She clambered carefully over Tim's legs to sit on Kon's lap and get a better view of Jason.

Kon adjusted his grip on his son so that Robin could 'hold' Jason. With Tim squeezed in beside them, her arm supporting the baby's head, Conner Luthor Kent felt perfectly at peace for the first time in his life.

He had everyone he loved cradled right there in his arms.

* * *

THE END


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